Part 9

Blair's POV

A glance at the clock on the wall told me I'd been collating the results of my experiments for almost two and a half hours. It was enough. If Dr. Carrington wanted to get blood from a stone, he could get it from another stone.

I labeled and put away the slides. I removed my glasses and squeezed the bridge of my nose. I got to my feet and arched my back, then switched off the light to my laboratory as I left.

I walked to the mess hall, trying to appear casual and unhurried, and smoothed a hand over my hair. When I was working I had a tendency to run my fingers through it, and as a result, it would often look as if I'd backed through a bramble bush.

Mrs. Chapman was in the mess hall. She was alone.

"Did I miss J... Captain Ellison?"

Her smile was knowing. "His watch should be over shortly." She stepped closer to me. "You really like him, don't you. Blair?"

"Does it show that much?"

"Only to those who know you as well as Hugo and I do. I'm so happy for you, sweetie."

"Well, let's not break out the shoes and rice just yet. I really only met him a couple of days ago." I wanted to smack myself in the head. I hadn't meant to tell her that. I waited to hear her disapproval.

She laughed easily. "Sometimes, that's all it takes. Hugo asked me to marry him the same day we met. Of course, I made him wait a while before I said 'yes'. It will never do to let a man know he has you wrapped around his finger. Now, why don't you join us until Captain Ellison gets here, and unwind."

"Okay."

"Blair! You owe me a game of chess!" Simon stood in the door of the rec room, grinning evilly. "I've been reading up on some esoteric moves!"

"Yeah? Let's see what you can do, Botvinnik."

He stepped back to let me enter.

"Danny, would you care to play Monopoly with me?"

"Sure, Mrs. Chapman."

"I'll take the Scotty dog." She began setting up the board and separating the money.

"I'll take the convertible."

Simon handed me a snifter of brandy. "I love the little civilized touches."

I warmed it in my palms and took a sip. "Trying to get me drunk, Simon? Won't work, y'know." Except with those damned Under the Wraps.

"Not at all." He took a chessman in each hand and held them behind his back, then brought his hands forward. "Choose."

I touched his left wrist, and he turned it over to reveal a black piece.

"I've had good luck with black men, Simon," I teased in a very low voice as I took it from him and sat behind the two rows of ebony chessmen.

He looked at the white knight in his palm ruefully, shook his head, and sat down to face me.

We were deep into the game when Bob MacAuliff, Jim's crew chief, came in; his walk was a little gimpy. Ken Erickson was right behind him, and the expression on his face had me looking twice for canary feathers sticking to his mouth.

"Jim around?" The buttons on MacAuliff's sweater were in the wrong holes, and the tail of his shirt was half-in, half-out of his pants.

Simon sat back, obviously relieved by the interruption. "No, he hasn't turned up yet."

MacAuliff relaxed back against Erickson. "I wanted to ask him if I could switch my watch with someone else."

"Weren't you supposed to relieve Captain Ellison, Lieutenant?"

"Shit, yeah. Sorry, Mrs. Chapman! Jim's gonna have my head!" Erickson pushed MacAuliff upright, his hand lingering on the shorter man's back, and then headed for the door.

"I'll fill in for you, if you like, Sergeant MacAuliff!" Barnes volunteered, for all the world like an eager puppy. "If... uh... you have no objections, Captain Banks?"

Simon shook his head. "It's fine with me, Barnes." He leaned forward as if studying the board for his next move and spoke softly, so that only I could hear. "Danny's shaping up to be a good security man, but he just doesn't give himself enough credit."

"Thanks, Barnes." MacAuliff smiled at him, a lazy, considering smile, and the younger man flushed. "That's great. I really need to saw some wood for a couple of hours. The... uh... the time out in the cold took a lot out of me."

Simon scrutinized the crew chief. "Tell me something, MacAuliff." He turned back to the chessmen before him. "You have a tussle with a polar bear?"

"Huh?" MacAuliff looked down and took in the condition of his clothing. He blushed, but didn't respond beyond, "Thanks," and righted himself. "Is there anything to read while I'm waiting for Jim?"

Simon looked up from the chessboard. "Some scientific periodicals."

MacAuliff shook his head.

"Reader's Digest. Good Housekeeping. Look. Life." Barnes offered a tentative smile. "They're current. We get them with every mail delivery."

"Whoa! Interesting!" He held up a copy of Picturegoer. On the cover was a photo of Rita Hayworth and her long, long legs. He sat down in one of the arm chairs and began to leaf through it.

The room grew silent except for the occasion murmur from Mrs. Chapman as she rolled the dice and invective from Simon as I captured his Bishop.

There was a sound in the mess hall, and my heart started thudding in painful excitement. Jim!

Carolyn Plummer strolled through the door into the rec room. "Oh!"

My heartbeat slowly returned to normal.

"Oh, dear!" She made such a production of bringing her fingertips to her mouth that I couldn't avoid noticing how swollen it was. "I didn't realize you'd all be here."

I looked around the room, then back at Simon, but he just shrugged.

She straightened the drape of her sweater and smoothed her hair. "I wanted to talk to you, Mrs. Chapman, but since everyone is here," again with the everyone. What was she up to? "I just wanted you all to know that Jimmy and I... well, we realized we had really been quite foolish, and as soon as we can arrange it, we're going to get married!"

I could feel the color drain from my cheeks. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, yes. I just knew when I saw him earlier and felt that old feeling that there was still something there, but I wasn't sure if Jimmy felt it also. But then he asked me to meet him in the storeroom, and as soon as I walked in he pounced on me and... " She continued speaking, but I couldn't hear her over the pounding in my ears.

I gulped down the rest of my brandy, with no regard for its bouquet. "Congratulations, Miss Plummer." The word was like gall in my mouth. "If you'll excuse me? It's getting late. I think I'll go to bed. Simon, I concede the game."

"Oh, no, you don't. I'm two moves away from 'checkmate'!"

"In your dreams, Simon." I managed a grin.

"Blair?" Mrs. Chapman was as pale as I imagined I was. I gave a small shake of my head, but she disregarded it. "Danny, I just remembered I need to speak to Blair about something. Would you mind if we finished this game another time? "

"Oh, uh... sure, Mrs. C." He stared at the Monopoly board, then gazed around with eyes that looked lost.

"Barnes, get your tail over here. You're pinch-hitting for Sandburg."

His face lit up with pleasure, and he hurried to take my seat.

I wondered if my smile looked as forced as it felt. "Don't make me look bad, Barnes. I'm one horse up on him. Goodnight."

"But... but... what about my news? The way Jimmy kissed me..."

I didn't want to hear it. Jim had never kissed me. I knew some men were nauseated by the idea of kissing another guy, but after what had happened earlier, I'd hoped that maybe...

I bit down on my lip and brushed past Lee, who was coming in with a pot of coffee and some mugs.

"Goodnight, Brair."

"'Night, Lee."

"Blair! Sweetie..." She stopped me in the center of the mess hall.

"Mrs. Chapman, please. I picked the wrong guy, and I made a fool of myself. There's nothing you or anyone can say that will change that."

"Oh, sweetie." She hugged me, offering what comfort she could. It was something Naomi never would have done.

"Please. I just need a little time to pull myself together."

She kissed my cheek, then let me go and stepped back. I walked away, trying to keep my stride unrevealingly sedate, but by the time I'd gone three steps into the main corridor, I was jogging. Halfway down it, and the jog became a run.

No one was wandering the corridors at that time of night. They were either in their labs or asleep, and I made it to my room unseen by anyone, which was a relief. I didn't want to have to explain why I was consigning Jim Ellison to the most horrific circle of Dante's inferno.

I made it a point never to get involved with married men. There was too much potential for hurt. At least two people were guaranteed to bleed emotionally, and a talented body in bed just wasn't worth that kind of pain.

Now it seemed that the man that I had fallen for, so quickly and so hard, was as good as married.

Damn him for making me want him like that!

And damn me for wanting him in spite of it.

****

"You should have known better, Sandburg." I sat on my bed, my head in my hands, and I cursed the both of us in every language I knew.

It took a while, but I finally ran out of invective and finished castigating myself for being such a fool.

"Oh, go to bed, you dope."

As I pulled off my sweater, I was enveloped by a scent that I realized had to be Jim's. Not aftershave or cologne, because he didn't seem to wear anything artificial.

I shuddered and bit back a moan, and threw it across the room. It was followed by two flannel shirts, the woolen top of my longjohns, and an undershirt. I was reaching for the button at the waist of my pants when there was a tentative knock at my door.

My heart took up the heavy thudding again. Won't you ever learn? I sneered at it silently as I crossed to the door. It's not him. And even if it is, Jim Ellison is not available.

I opened it. My eyes widened, my mouth opened, then shut, and my breath snagged in my throat. Jim?

But I'd faced down a classroom of restless students when I'd done some time as a teaching assistant while working on my dissertation. I pulled myself together.

"You're in the wrong place. Miss Plummer's room is down the next corridor." I turned the sneer on him. "Or should I call her 'Mrs. Ellison'?"

"She's not Mrs. Ellison, and I'm not looking for Carolyn. I was looking for you." His eyes narrowed, and he reached out to touch me. I slapped his hand away.

"Why?" He was crowding me, but I stood my ground stubbornly. I had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of seeing me back down before him.

"We were supposed to have a cup of coffee at the mess hall. We were going to..."

"What? Take up where we left off? I don't think so. You're going to remarry your ex-wife. I don't fool around with married men." If I repeated that enough, maybe I'd believe it where he was concerned.

He was staring at my chest, and I was about to snap at him that he could at least have the courtesy of looking me in the eye while we had our first... our only quarrel, when I saw the blank look in his eyes.

"Jim. Jim! Listen to my voice!" I shook and stroked and patted him. "Come back to me!" I was looking for any excuse to touch him one last time. I promised myself it would be the last time.

He blinked, shuddered, inhaled deeply, and slowly came out of it. "What happened, Chief?"

"I was hoping you could tell me."

But he didn't. "What... uh... what were we talking about?"

"Your remarriage."

"Aw, baby, she lied! There's nothing between us."

Suppose he was lying to me, telling me what I wanted to hear so he could get in my pants, and then still have his wife to go home to?

"Don't call me 'baby'," I snapped. I couldn't let him know what hearing him call me 'baby' did to me. "And don't tell me there's nothing between you. For Pete's sake, I can smell her on you! Unless you've taken to wearing women's perfume?"

He pulled the material of his flight suit up toward his nose and sniffed, and an angry flush colored his cheeks. "All of a sudden you're the sentinel?"

"Don't give me that crap! Chanel #5 is pretty strong, wise guy. I don't need an acute olfactory sense to pick up on that! And what do you know about sentinels?"

"Blair, you have to believe me!" He was tearing the suit off with furious, contained movements.

According to what law? And damn the man for not answering me. "Back off, Ellison. You're not coming..."

"Not yet, I'm not." The pants of his flight suit were down around his ankles and he almost fell over. I would have laughed if I hadn't been so distracted by the curve of the firm muscles of his ass as he bent to remove his boots and then finish getting out of his flying gear.

"No! If I let you in, you're going to...," I swallowed, "...to make love to me?"

"Yeah." He started to unbutton his shirt. The expanse of skin I could see above the vee neck of his undershirt was hairless.

"But we were going to talk first." My fingertips tingled with the desire to touch him.

"You want to talk?"

No. Who wanted to waste time verbalizing when I could have him ripping off my pants, throwing me down on my bed, and burying his dick so deep in my ass that I'd feel him there for days afterward? But I had to make him think that talking was the only thing I was willing to do.

"Okay, Chief. We talk. First. Then..."

"No." I almost panicked. If there was a 'then', I knew I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off him. "I don't ..."

"You don't trust me?" He looked hurt, and then he looked determined. He started walking toward me.

"Your clothes, Jim! You can't leave them in the hall!" I didn't care what he did with his flight suit and his boots, they could have gathered dust there in the corridor until the end of time, for all that their location mattered to me, but I had no intention of telling him that I was the one I didn't trust. I knew my mouth must have a mulish twist to it. I'd learned stubborn from Naomi.

He grabbed them up, came into my room, and dumped them on the floor. I stiffened when I saw the expression on his face, as if he wanted to make a meal of me.

Jim gave an innocent smile, spread his hands as if he had nothing to hide, and said, "You can tie me up if that will make you feel better."

The image of Jim restrained made my dick so hard I had to swallow down a whimper. "Why don't you sit in that chair, Jim?"

Instead of sitting with his back to the back of the chair, he straddled it; there was nothing to block my view of his lower body, and I found myself mesmerized by the way his pants pulled snug over his dick. He was as hard as I was.

"Hands behind your back, tough guy." Without a single protest, he obeyed me. I was so aroused I was panting, and my cheeks felt hot with desire. I remembered the tie that confined my hair was in my pocket, and I pulled it out and secured his wrists together.

Jim was at my mercy, and I couldn't resist leaning against him, letting him feel me lean against him. And I heard myself whispering hoarsely, "I was going to say, it's not that I didn't trust you, but that I didn't trust me. Y'know, it wouldn't have mattered. I'd have gone to bed with you anyway, Jim. And if you weren't tied up, I never would have told you that!"

He groaned and his hips jerked, and I shivered. I did that to him!

"There really isn't anything going on with the two of you, Jim?" Tell me 'no', even if it's a lie!

"I swear to you, babe. On what I feel for you."

What? "What do you feel for me, Jim? Passion? Lust?"

"That, and more."

"What 'more'?"

"How about affection?"

Was he saying we had something more than physical attraction going for us? I pressed my lips to his and was stunned when he opened his mouth under mine.

I drew back. Jim was flushed, his cheekbones splashed with color, his eyes glittering like the sky reflected by Arctic ice.

I murmured his name, brought our mouths together, and began exploring the warm, wet interior of his mouth in earnest. Kissing was something I'd learned to do to make sure my partner drowned in a flood of feeling and surrendered to me, but this time I was the one who was drowning. I increased the pressure until I had to break the kiss if I wanted to breathe.

Breathing was so overrated.

"This is the first time we've kissed, you know. I like it." I didn't recognize my own voice.

"Untie me, Chief."

"Not yet." I could see his erection straining against his fly, and I needed to taste him. I knelt before him, the scent of male arousal driving me to the brink of orgasm. Never before had I been so out of control.

The sensation of his fingers in my hair was one of the most erotic things I had ever felt. He whispered something; I couldn't understand the words, but it wasn't important because he was bringing my face up to his, he was kissing me, he was...

"Jim! You're free!" I moved so quickly I tipped over backwards, and I had no doubt I resembled nothing so much as a befuddled owl as I stared up at him. "How'd you get free?"

"I guess you weren't a Boy Scout, Chief." He looked smugly proud of himself. "You really don't have much of a way with knots."

I watched him with wary eyes. He rose from the chair with the grace of a panther and began to stalk me. I scooted backwards until I found my back against the wall.

His hands manacled my wrists, he hauled me to my feet, and we were suddenly doing a replay of the scene in his quarters earlier this evening. My arms were above my head, and he was plastered against me from chest to groin.

"So you would have gone to bed with me anyway, Chief?"

I nodded, unable to get a word past my lips.

"I'm glad to hear that, Blair." He bent and got his shoulder into my gut, I was hoisted up into a fireman's lift, and the next thing I knew, I was sailing through the air to land sprawled out on my bed. The mattress gave a little, and then gave more as he came down on top of me, driving me deeper into it. His legs were between mine, and he spread them, spreading mine, and settled into the vee of my thighs. "I'm really glad to hear that."

####

Part 10

Carolyn's POV

Wendy, my baby sister, was married by the time she was nineteen. Of course, she was divorced within the year, but she had proved to our mother that she could land a man.

"Why can't you be more like your sister, dear?"

And so I married James Joseph Ellison. There were a number of very valid reasons for marrying him. Love was not one of them.

He was a decorated war hero. He was respected by his superior officers and was on the fast track to becoming a high-ranking officer himself. He was good-looking.

But the main reason I married the man was because I was twenty-eight years old and had never been married.

Our honeymoon was a disaster. Sex was messy and painful, and I cried through the whole thing, because of course I was a virgin. Good girls didn't do anything like that before they were married, even if they were twenty-eight years old.

I began to look for excuses so he wouldn't touch me.

"I have a headache, Jimmy." Even if I didn't.

"I'm...er... indisposed." One didn't tell a man one had one's period.

"I just had my hair done!"

"I just manicured my nails, and they're still wet."

"I have a cold in my nose."

"I'm so tired!"

And gradually he stopped asking. I was so relieved when he agreed to twin beds that I didn't question his willingness. After all, that was how Mother and Daddy lived.

My life with Jimmy was comfortable. He let me do as I pleased and never asked how I spent my days. I thought it was because he trusted me, and I never gave him reason not to. Until I met Sam.

Sam and I had six wonderful months together, and of course Jimmy had no idea; he was too busy flying those wretched planes of his.

And then Sam was offered a position in Washington, DC.

"I'll talk Jimmy into putting in for a transfer, darling! He can fly those generals and admirals around. Maybe he'll even become an aide to one of them!"

"I wish you'd leave him, Caro. You know you don't love him."

"I can't! Think of what my parents would say, how my friends would react!" I shuddered at the thought.

"So you'd rather hurt me."

"Sam! No!"

"I'm sorry, Carolyn. I love you very much, but you're going to have to choose between the life you want to live, and the one society expects of you. I'll wait for you for six months, but if you haven't made a decision by then..."

"Sam, please!"

"Good-bye, Cara mia." She kissed me and walked out without once looking back.

****

It's too late. The words repeated themselves over and over and over in my mind until I wanted to scream and tear my hair.

I'd finally gotten the divorce from my husband, but more than a year later, and I knew Sam would have wasted no time in finding someone who appreciated her. I had let it go too long.

The alimony I was collecting from Jimmy wasn't enough for me to survive on. I couldn't face the prospect of returning to my parents' home, especially since I knew Daddy would never let me hear the end of it about my failed marriage. I wasn't Wendy, after all.

I found out, in a very roundabout way, that a secretarial position was opening up in a research station in the Arctic. The pay was good, especially for a woman, and room and board were included. I applied. No one was more surprised than I when I actually got the job.

"You really want to do this, Carolyn?"

Of course I didn't! It was the North Pole! "Yes, Daddy."

"Very well. I think it's foolish, but ..."

"Will you give me a job at your firm?"

"Good god, no, girl!"

I hadn't thought so. "Good-bye, Dad."

****

The last leg of the trip, from Anchorage to that dust speck on the map that was the research station, was excruciatingly boring. The lone passenger who was on the plane when I maneuvered up that impossible ladder in my slim skirt and high heels was already sound asleep.

He looked cute, in a bohemian kind of way. His hair was much too long to be acceptable, and I thought I saw an earring in his ear, but he had the longest, most luxurious eyelashes I had ever seen on a man, and lush lips that were slightly parted.

If I looked at him through slitted eyes, I could almost pretend he was a woman. A rather muscular woman with a five o'clock shadow. I sighed.

****

I hated the Arctic. It was cold and white and... cold.

I talked too much, as I always did when I was nervous.

It wasn't my fault I'd reacted the way I had when I was introduced to Simon Banks. I had never seen such a big colored man before.

They all hated me, I just knew it, and I cried myself to sleep that night, wishing I'd had the nerve to go with Sam when she'd asked me.

The next morning I was determined to behave with decorum, as befitted a Plummer, and things did seem to be going better.

There was a knock on my door, and when I opened it, it was to find Mrs. Chapman standing there. Draped over her arm was a pair of trousers.

"I found some slacks for you, Carolyn. They belonged to Mrs. Olson. She's away right now, visiting her son who just became a daddy for the first time, but she won't mind."

"Oh, but won't she need them when she gets back?" Mother always... advised us not to wear borrowed clothing. She said it was common.

"You're so sweet, but they don't fit her any longer."

"Oh, well... thank you. And of course I'll thank Mrs. Olson when she returns."

"You're welcome, dear. Breakfast is ready. Don't take too long getting dressed."

She walked briskly down the corridor, and I shut the door. I didn't like being called 'dear'. I never had.

I held the slacks up by the waist, then laid them across my bed and went to find an appropriate top.

The slacks were baggy. If it wasn't for the belt threaded through the loops, they would be around my ankles. And they no longer fit Mrs. Olson? How much did the woman weigh?

But my lower extremities were warm. Maybe I really could do this, could support myself.

I walked to the mess hall and had breakfast, and afterwards, Mrs. Chapman escorted me to the tiny room that would serve as my office. She showed me where all the supplies were kept.

The inbox next to the Underwood typewriter only had one set of papers clipped together.

"Nikki finished as much as she could so you wouldn't start out swamped."

"Nikki?"

"Alberta Nicholson."

"Oh. Yes, I see." Why hadn't she invited me to call her by her nickname? Certainly everyone else seemed to. She was leaving, I rationalized. We wouldn't have time to know one another. "Well, that was very nice of her."

Dr. Carrington walked in. "Miss Plummer, good morning. I need these results typed up in triplicate, please. Mrs. Chapman, I'd like a word with you, if you don't mind?"

Mrs. Chapman smiled encouragingly, and they left me to my job.

I explored the file cabinets and discovered personnel records, which included payroll information, and accounting for everything ordered for this station, from food to microscope slides, agents and reagents for experiments, and fuel oil to heat the station. Alberta Nicholson was more than a simple secretary. Rather than worry about how I could ever do half the tasks she handled, I turned to face the black beast on my desk.

I really wasn't interested in the people who worked here.

I found the carbon paper and took out two sheets. I'd put them between the stock paper and get started.

By the time I had the first set of papers in the carriage of the typewriter, my hands were covered with the black stuff, and it was smeared over the seat of my slacks.

I had to go back to my room to change. I had to go back to my room to change three times.

This was not turning out to be one of my better days.

And after dinner, it went from bad to worse.

"Jimmy!" My ex-husband had turned up like a bad penny. He could have had the grace to at least look intrigued to find me there.

After exchanging words with him, I left the mess hall with a dignified gait and retired to my room, thinking furiously. I wanted to go home. I hated being cold, and I hated being thought of as a failure because I was a divorcee.

This whole situation in which I found myself was James Ellison's fault. He was going to be my ticket back to the life I always should have had.

In my room I found exactly what I wanted to wear, and I laid the outfit on my bed. I remembered that Jimmy liked soft textures, so I chose a soft suede skirt that came to mid-calf and an angora sweater. Spike-heeled shoes that fastened around my ankles would complete the outfit. I liked those shoes. They emphasized the curve of my calves and showed off how slender my ankles were.

Sam had loved how I looked in them. She'd curled her hand around my calf, brought it over my knee and to my thigh, then run her thumbnail lazily over the crotch of my panties, which had quickly grown damp...

My nipples peaked to pebble hardness. I wanted to touch myself, lose myself in thoughts of what Sam used to do to me.

Instead, I spritzed myself with my favorite French perfume, fixed the pale pink garter belt around my waist, and sat down to roll up my nylons. I made sure the seams in back were straight, and then fastened the tops with the garters.

Deliberately I left off the panties and brassiere that formed a matching set with the garter belt. I stepped into the skirt and pulled up the zipper on my left side, drew the sweater on over my head, and smoothed the material over my breasts.

I thought fleetingly of Sam again, but I couldn't have her, she wouldn't have waited, and I put her out of my mind.

I fluffed my hair, put on a fresh coat of lipstick, and went to track down my soon-to-be husband.

****

The visit with Jimmy in the storeroom didn't work out as well as I'd hoped. I'd been certain that once he'd slid his hand under my skirt and realized I was nude under it, things would progress to a happy conclusion, but I hadn't even been able to get him to embrace me. He'd nattered on about being faithful.

Who did he think he was, that stupid elephant?

And then that lieutenant of his interrupted us, and I'd had to leave. But I could feel their eyes on my backside, and I put a little extra wiggle in my walk.

Once outside the door, I rubbed my arms briskly and blew on my hands. It had been so cold in that storeroom!

All right, time to put Plan B into action. I'd start telling everyone that we had made up our differences.

I'd need some visual substantiation for that, though. Everyone had seen the way we'd sniped at each other. I hurried to the ladies' room and used some toilet tissue to remove most of my lipstick, then carefully smudged my mouth so it would appear I had been kissed to within an inch of my life.

Jimmy was an officer, and supposedly a gentleman. He would never call a lady a liar, not in public, but I was sure he'd want to confront me about the little rumor I was about to start.

And I had no doubt that once I had him in my room, I'd be able to convince him it was in his own best interest to remarry me.

Satisfied with my appearance, I went to the rec room. It was show time.

****

I was in my room, pacing and glancing impatiently at my wristwatch.

Jimmy's watch had been over for at least forty-five minutes. That should have given him plenty of time to hear the little rumor I'd started.

Where was he? And if this wasn't just like a man, and him in particular!

I wouldn't have been surprised if he was simply trying to drive me out of my mind, so I decided to track him down.

I went to the quarters I had learned he and his men had been given, pleased that no one was around. One good thing that could be said for these people, at least they went to bed at a decent hour.

****

For some reason, I found myself tip-toeing to the door. I could recall too many times when my husband had heard things I hadn't wanted him to hear.

I pressed my ear to the door and listened, then flinched. The sound from within was a chorus of snores that were guaranteed to rattle windows. I opened the door and peeked in, but it was too dark to see anything.

But! Jimmy never snored. Therefore, Jimmy wasn't in there.

Satisfied with my reasoning, I concluded that he had to be still awake. After all, he was a conscientious man, where duty was concerned, at any rate. I wouldn't have been at all surprised if he was checking things in the storeroom.

I smiled in satisfaction and hurried on my way. I'd just go back there and surprise him.

As I rounded the corner, I saw Danny Barnes racing down the corridor. I had read some things in his file about him having a number of problems adjusting to the endless days of the Arctic summer, and word was that he'd vomited all over his own boots just this afternoon on the ice.

He probably was unable to deal with the cold in that room and needed to go to the bathroom.

Well, that was perfect. It would give me the opportunity to talk to Jimmy.

I opened the door. "Jimmy? Baby?" I used that voice I knew he loved. Sam had hated it, but... but Sam had left me. "Your snooky-wookums is cold and needs your big strong arms to warm her! Jimmy?" I heard something behind me. "Are you playing hide-and-go-seek with me?"

I pasted a smile on my face and started to turn. Something slammed into the side of my head, sending me crashing into some crates, stars exploded, and then I knew nothing else.

****

Part 11

Blair's POV

Something was digging into my back. I mumbled a protest and reached beneath me to pull out the lid of the Vaseline jar.

Jim turned his head on the pillow beside me and grinned. "Good thing you had some lubricant, Chief, although I don't think I want to ask why the jar was nearly empty."

He didn't see my blush, which was fortunate. I really didn't want to explain about needing to stimulate my prostate every so often.

"Lucky for you it was. I'd never be able to explain to Mrs. Chapman why there was Vaseline all over my blankets."

"You okay, Chief? Did I use enough?" He angled himself over me and stared down at me. His fingers stroked over a spot on my neck, and I tipped my head back so he'd keep doing it, and then his mouth was there, suckling the patch of skin.

I made this sound that was a cross between desperate and demanding, and tipped my head even further back, hoping he'd suck harder.

"Did I?"

It took a second for me to recall he'd been asking if he'd used enough lubricant. "You used plenty."

"Why are you shifting as if you're sore?"

"How did you know..." I could see from his expression that he wasn't going to tell me. I was feeling good in spite of the ache deep inside me, or maybe because of it. I'd never had a lover who was so skilled in the use of his dick. Or one who warmed me so well. Even though the blankets were mostly on the floor, I was cozy in his arms. I burrowed against him. "Okay, fine, have it your own way."

His hand fondled the curve of my ass, tracing the crevice, dipping into my hole which was still slick with the lubricant and his come.

"I'm okay, Jim. In fact, I'm so okay, I'm up for another round." I wrapped the fingers of his other hand around my dick to show him how 'up' for it I was. They were warm and lightly callused. He rubbed his thumb under the flared head, and I gasped. "How about you?" I nipped his collarbone.

"Hey!" His hand came down on my ass cheek in a playful spank.

"Hey!" I rubbed the abused cheek, pretending to be aggrieved.

"Something wrong, Chief?" he asked innocently.

I had my fingers curled to launch an attack on his ribs, but in the blink of an eye, he was no longer beside me in bed. "Jim?"

The man moved like lightning, no exaggeration. He already had his pants on and was yanking his undershirt over his head. "Something is wrong."

"What is it?" I used the sheet to wipe myself off, uncaring of what anyone might say over its condition, then began dressing, putting on my socks first. The floor was always cold, and I didn't want to be hopping all over, with my dick bouncing up and down, although no doubt it would have amused my lover immensely. "Jim?"

"I don't know. I... I can't tell, Blair. I just know I have to... Wait a second! What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm going with you." From force of habit I slipped the lanyard that held the greenhouse key over my head. "If nothing else, it's obvious you need protecting from your ex-wife."

He tucked his shirt into his pants and zipped the fly. "And you're the man to protect me?"

"That's right. I'll slap her silly if she even looks like she wants to get close to you." I stepped into the half boots I wore in the station. "I'm all set, Jim. You want to take your flight suit, or leave it here?"

"I'd better take it." I picked it up and threw it to him. He caught it and went to the door. "How come you aren't questioning me, Chief?"

"Dunno, Jim. As I told you the other night, I lived among some primitive peoples, and I learned some interesting things." I could see he was becoming more and more anxious. "Never mind all that. Let's get going."

****

"Jim? What's up, Cap?" One of his men, who I recognized as Erickson, the navigator, looked up in surprise as Jim and I came hurrying into the rec room. Seated beside him was the radio operator, Eddie Dykes.

Jim looked ill-at-ease. "Barnes relieved you without any problems, Ken?"

"Yeah." He glanced at his wrist watch. "About half an hour ago. Right on time." He began to grin. "Wanna know how your mystery turns out?"

"I told you..." His head whipped around, and for a moment I would have sworn he was vibrating.

We heard the door to the mess hall slam open and someone come pounding in.

"Where's Captain Banks? I have to see him! I have to tell him that Thing is alive! I have to..."

Jim bolted into the mess hall. We were right behind him.

It was Barnes, sheet-white and hyperventilating. His irises were like twin marbles surrounded by the whites of his eyes.

"Captain Ellison!" He rushed at Jim, waving a gun, his words running together in short, jerky, panic-stricken sentences. The gun was too close to my lover for my comfort. Carefully I approached the pair. "That Thing!" His panic named our visitor. "It's alive, alive, I tell you! It came at me, I shot at it, but the bullets didn't stop it! It's alive!"

They were close to a table, and someone had left a glass of water there.

"You have to do something! It was horrible! Those hands, and those eyes! You've got to..."

I threw the water into his face. Barnes gasped and shuddered and sagged, and I got an arm around him before his legs could give out and he collapsed.

"Easy, Danny. Easy." I helped him into a chair.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Simon came running in. "What's going on? I heard shots?"

Behind him were the Chapmans, Dr. Carrington, and a few of the other scientists. Except for Dr. Carrington, they were all dressed in their nightclothes.

"Danny, can you tell us what happened more calmly now?"

"Yes, I'm sorry." He wiped the drops of water off his face. "I relieved Lieutenant Erickson at 1, and after he left, I checked the storeroom. Everything seemed okay, so I poured myself a cup of coffee and started reading that mystery that was on the desk. After a while I started getting this awful feeling, like... like ... I dunno, like someone was staring at me? The hairs on the back of my neck felt like they were standing at attention, and I... I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye, a shadow on the wall in front of me, I don't know. When I looked over my shoulder, there it was! Those weird eyes and those hands and... "

"Easy, Danny." Simon squeezed his shoulder. "You're safe here."

"I know. I'm sorry." He gulped and rubbed his fist over his lips. "It started coming at me. I pulled out my gun and shot at it. I shot six times, and I know I hit it, I could hear the bullets as they hit, this soggy... " He had to swallow a couple of times before he could go on. "It made this high-pitched mewling sound and kept coming at me." He shuddered and gulped again. "I'm sorry. I ran. I... I ran."

"It's all right, Danny." Mrs. Chapman knelt beside him and drew him into a comforting embrace, while her husband went to brew a pot of coffee.

"Ken, do you have your gun? Eddie?"

"In our quarters, Jim."

"Go get them. Better wake up Bob and Joel. Meet me in the corridor near the storeroom."

They left on the run.

"I'll break out the station's weapons, Jim." I couldn't remember ever seeing Simon look so grim.

"Thanks, Simon. We just may need them."

"I'm going with you."

"Chief, it isn't safe."

"Captain Ellison, I'm going also."

"Dr. Chapman..."

"Hugo, be careful."

"Always, my dear." He hugged his wife.

Megan Connor ran in, belting a red silk kimono over her pajamas. Japanese dragons were embroidered over it in black and gold threads. "What's all the ruckus about? I thought I heard gunshots!"

"That Thing in the ice got out somehow and attacked Barnes. We're going to check out the storeroom. You stay here. You're not invited along!"

"Because I'm a woman? And I suppose I was just kibitzing at Iwo Jima and Bougainville."

"I'm not giving you a gun."

"Don't need one." There was a smug curl to her mouth, and she pulled a revolver from the pocket of her kimono.

"Damn."

"What are you going to do?" Dr. Carrington demanded. "You can't harm it! If it's survived, we'll need to see to its injuries, try to communicate with it!" His voice had grown strident. "You can't harm it!"

"I have no intention of harming it, Dr. Carrington. As long as it doesn't try to harm me or my men." Jim headed out the door, followed by me, Simon, Connor, Dr. Chapman, and Dr. Carrington, who continued to harangue my lover. Jim ignored him, coming to a halt to glare at us. "What is this, Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade? This is strictly a military operation!"

"I'm going," I told him flatly. "And you can't stop me. I'm not under you." As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew I was in trouble. "I mean..."

"Not now, you're not, Sandburg," Jim growled at me in a low voice I hoped no one else would hear. "But when I get you alone..." He let the sensual threat hang.

"Please, Jim. Don't make me wait behind."

"You might as well let him go, Ellison. I'm coming along as well." Simon was carefully inserting bullets into Barnes' gun.

"And so am I," Connor stated.

"Suit yourselves. Just remember to duck if the lead starts flying."

We had arrived at the junction of the corridor leading to storeroom #4. Joel Taggart was waiting there with Jim's other three men. They all had their weapons out, thumbs on the hammers, ready to start firing if the necessity arose.

"All right." Jim had his hand on the doorknob. He took a deep breath and threw open the door.

The light was out. Wind and snow came whistling though the broken windows.

Jim took a couple of strides into the room and went down face first, tripping over something. At the same time there was a rush of air through the space where he had stood.

"What the...?"

The light from the corridor gave some illumination, and we could make out the shape standing above him, the stance aggressive. Jim rolled onto a hip, his gun braced in both hands, and opened fire. Six other guns also fired, the simultaneous sound like rolling thunder, deafening in the confined space of the room.

Suddenly the outer door was flung back, and I could see a tall, monstrous shadow disappear through it into the storm.

"Somebody, shut that door!"

Erickson, Dykes and MacAuliff struggled against the wind, finally succeeding in getting the door closed.

"Jim, what happened? What did you trip over?"

"Get some light in here!"

I fumbled against the wall and found the light switch.

"It's Mrs. Ellison... " Lieutenant Erickson smiled weakly as Jim glared at him. "...er... Miss Plummer."

Jim went down beside her and searched for the pulse in her throat. "She's alive."

He brushed her hair back off her face. Blood was streaming from a wound on her temple. He searched for something to staunch the flow, and I dug a handkerchief out of my pocket.

"Thanks, Chief. Head wounds always bleed like a bastard."

"It looks like she hit her head on the edge of that crate, Captain Ellison." Dr. Chapman was on one knee, carefully probing for broken bones and other injuries. "She was lucky."

"What makes you say that, Dr. Chapman?" Connor, ever the reporter.

"If she had been struck with the same force of blow that... whatever that was swung at the good captain, I'm afraid it would have taken off her head! As it is, she's going to need stitches. I think she's also going to have one very bad headache." He raised an eyelid. "She's concussed, but she is alive. I'll bring her to my wife. Esther will take care of her."

Mrs. Chapman was a licensed doctor, but because two Dr. Chapmans would have been too confusing, Dr. Carrington decreed she should be referred to by the title 'Mrs.', and she graciously permitted it.

"I'll give Hugo a hand, if that's all right with you, Jim?"

"Yeah, Simon. Thanks."

The two men carefully maneuvered the comatose woman out of the storeroom.

"Look!" Connor's voice was high and tense.

We rushed to the windows, trying to see through the dark and the wind-driven snow. It was difficult, but with the help of a fitful moon, I could just about make out what was happening.

Our visitor had stumbled into the spot where the sled dogs had been bedded down for the night. They were ill-tempered, even more so for having been awakened. We could hear the deep-throated, savage howls. They threw themselves on the creature en masse.

"He's dead meat!"

He went down beneath eight of the dogs.

"Holy smokes! Would you look at that?"

Somehow, the Man from Mars had regained his footing. He flung one of the dogs at its mates, managed to stagger beyond the reach of the chains that tethered the dogs, fall, and then get to his feet again and vanish into the night.

"That puts paid to him. He'll never last in that cold!"

"Yeah? He survived pretty good in a block of ice for more than twenty-four hours!"

"We've lost him!" Dr. Carrington bemoaned. "We've truly lost him. All that knowledge, that wisdom, gone!"

"How the hell did this happen?" Jim wasn't happy. "That Thing was frozen solid in the ice!"

"This did it, Cap." Joel picked up a blanket. An electrical cord ran from it to an outlet. "It's still warm. My fault, Jim. I didn't even know it was plugged in."

"No." Connor's lips were etched in white. "My fault. I wanted Jo... Taggart to be comfortable. I didn't tell him I'd plugged it in; I didn't think it would matter. Oh, jesus, I'm sorry."

"Nice to know even the infallible Megan Connor can screw up."

"You try being a woman in a man's field, Taggart," she snapped at him. It took a visible effort for her to bite back whatever else she would have said. "I'm going to get my camera."

"It's a little late for that, don't you think?"

"Drop dead, Taggart. I'll photograph the block of ice, and at least there will be a record of its shape." She stalked out of the storeroom. Taggart watched her go.

"How come none of us realized it was an electric blanket?" Ken Erickson looked more than a little disturbed. He kept glancing at the crew chief. I remembered Barnes had volunteered to take Bob MacAuliff's watch. If he hadn't, MacAuliff would have been the one to face down that Thing.

"The gloves," Jim muttered. He stood with a hand on his hip, running a restless hand over his hair. "It's got to be the gloves. I had them from Joel and was wearing them when I put the blanket around Carolyn. You were wearing them when you straightened it on the ice, after... "

I frowned at him. What was he doing putting a blanket around that woman?

"And I gave them to Barnes. It was so friggin' cold in here!"

Jim ran a hand over his hair again and looked at each of his men. "I'm going out there to see if I can find anything. I won't order you to come with me, but I'm asking for volunteers."

"Count me in, Jim." "Me too." "And me." "Ditto."

"Jim, I can help calm the dogs."

He hesitated a moment, then said, "Okay, Chief. Dr. Carrington, if we're able to find anything, you can have it to dissect."

"Thank you, Captain." He had himself under control once more.

"All right, people. It's cold out there. Get your outer gear. And somebody rustle up some flashlights. Now, let's move like we've got a purpose!"

****

Between the wind, the snow, and the cold, it took us what felt like forever to make our way to where the huskies had been bedded down.

The dogs stood stiff-legged, facing the spaces beyond the camp, their hackles raised, ears flat, and lips wrinkled, baring their teeth in now-silent fury.

I approached them with caution, using the crooning tones I knew would calm them. The Eskimo angatkuq had told me, when he'd first seen me working with the huskies, that my inner spirit was a wolf, and the half-wild animals, with the wolf strain in them separated by not more than a generation, responded to me because of that.

They allowed me to get close enough, and I stroked and petted them until their ears rose and their stance, while not completely relaxed, became less aggressive.

"Where is it?" "Can you find any tracks?" "I can't see a goddammed thing!" "Where in friggin' hell did it go?"

Jim turned, his shoulders heaving. I left the dogs to fend for themselves and slipped and skidded over the icy snow to his side.

"What's wrong?" I kept my voice low. His men were casting around, looking for any signs of our visitor from Mars, and were unaware that something was bothering him.

"That smell, Chief! I ... It's too..."

I didn't know what he was talking about, I couldn't smell anything, but I could see he was in distress. I caught the fingers of my left glove between my teeth and yanked it off, then, skin to skin, cupped his cheek and forced him to meet my eyes. The temperature was subzero, and almost immediately my bare fingers began to freeze, but I blocked out the feeling.

"Jim, picture a dial. Can you do that? Good. Now, this smell is at the top of the dial. I want you to turn the dial down."

The shudders that ran through him eased as he concentrated, and after a couple of minutes stopped completely. He took a shallow breath, either to avoid another lungful of the smell that had affected him so strongly, or to avoid the damage the freezing air could do to his lungs.

"Thanks, Chief. That helped a lot. Thank you." His gloved hand covered my bare one, warming it.

"Jim! There's something over here! Jim!" Joel called, pitching his voice to be heard above the wind. He shone his flashlight over a large, dark splotch on the snow, then squatted down to study it. Jim joined him. "What do you make of it, Cap?"

"It's blood. Dog's blood."

"How can you tell? It might be Plug Ugly's."

"See for yourself." Jim raised his flashlight, and the circle of light revealed the bodies of two of the dogs.

Ikuma, the lead bitch, approached her dead comrades. The coats were stiffening as the blood that drenched them froze in the Arctic night. White bone gleamed in the artificial light, while ribbons of intestines had spilled out onto the snow.

I gasped, sucking in the air and then choking as my lungs protested the cold, cold invasion. The odor of perforated bowel had been what Jim had smelled, before any of us picked up on it.

"Jesus, they look like they've gone through a shredder!" Erickson sounded shaky.

Ikuma nosed the bodies, then threw her head back and began an ululation of mourning. The other dogs joined in the eerie, spine-chilling howls.

"Hey! I found something!" The tense cry had us turning to where Dykes, the radio man, was standing and pointing, his mouth twisted in revulsion.

Not the Man from Mars, but... Under one of the eviscerated bodies was something long and pale. It was an arm. Tatters of material fluttered in the dying wind. I swallowed convulsively.

In a moment of absolute absurdity, I wondered if it was the same one that had seemed to be reaching for me.

Jim hesitated a moment, then used great care in picking it up. "All right, let's get this inside. We're going to need more men, more flashlights, and some damn big shotguns. And we're going to find that damned Thing!"

****

My lover was out there in the night and the storm with his men and Simon's men, and our visitor from space.

I was in the laboratory, surrounded by scientists who were arguing over the arm with its ten-fingered hand. I picked up a pair of surgical scissors, and with extreme care, I cut through the material that covered the arm. The... skin... for want of a better word, was an odd texture that I couldn't quite place.

I reached for a scalpel, but Dr. Carrington was there before me.

"Dr. Auerbach, if you'll do the honors, please?" Dr. Carrington extended the scalpel to him.

I opened my mouth to object to our resident pathologist taking over the dissection of the arm, then closed it. Dr. Carrington was the titular head of this station, after all. And all I had to go on was a gut feeling about that arm.

"Thank you, Doctor." Dr. Auerbach cut into the skin of the forearm and inserted a thermometer. "Let's just see if it will register anything."

Something suddenly drew Dr. Carrington's attention. He fingered the blood-smeared tissue at the severed end of the arm.

"Dr. Stern, would you mind taking a look at this?"

The senior botanist studied it for a moment. "This was torn off at the shoulder!"

"Yes. As strong as the dogs are, it would take something larger and much more powerful than a husky to rip off a man's arm, much less this creature's."

"And the bone... Blair, what do you make of this?"

"What does Blair make of it? What about me?" Professor Laurenz snarled. "I've got seniority over him!"

"Oh, this is very interesting," Connor whispered in my ear. She had taken the time to change out of her pajamas and was again in her usual attire of pants, boots, and a flannel shirt.

"What? You thought that just because a man had a string of letters after his name he couldn't be a..." I bit back the words. I was a junior member of this station, and it wouldn't do for me to call a man whose research I had once cited a 'petty prick'.

"Of course I'm always interested in what you have to say, Andrew," Dr. Carrington asserted. "You know I value your judgment."

Professor Laurenz preened. "Thank you, Arthur."

Dr. Auerbach removed the thermometer, gazed at it thoughtfully, then reinserted it.

"Now, as I see it..." Laurenz was staring at me, his expression smug, as he reached for the arm. He yanked his hand back. "Ouch!"

"Andrew! Your hand is bleeding!"

"How...? I don't understand!" He pulled out a handkerchief and wrapped it around his palm.

"Most interesting!" Dr. Stern examined the long, thin, curved fingers, exercising extreme care not to touch them. "These appear to be some sort of chitinous material."

"Chitin- what?"

"Chitinous, Connor. Like the exoskeleton of a beetle."

Her toe was tapping out an impatient tattoo. "Words of one syllable, Sandy."

I smiled, liking the nickname she'd given me. "A rose thorn?"

"Dr. Stern is right. That is interesting."

And those fingers had cut through the sled dogs' hide and muscle like a warm knife through butter.

"Would you mind if I took some tissue samples to examine under a microscope, Dr. Carrington?"

"Yes, you may as well. I'd like to learn why the dogs were able to tear this being's arm off at the shoulder."

I put on my glasses, prepared the slide, and adjusted the microscope to get the best viewing. I growled under my breath, removed my glasses and rubbed at them with a shirt tail, then put them back on, tucked in my shirt tail, and looked into the microscope again. I let out a low whistle.

"What is it, Blair?"

"Porous, unconnected cellular growth." There were startled sounds from the other scientists. I looked from Dr. Stern to Dr. Carrington, to Professor Laurenz. "I'm not surprised the dogs were able to tear this Thing's arm off."

"Nerve endings? Arterial structures?" Dr. Auerbach demanded.

"No. And it's no wonder all those bullets Barnes shot at it didn't do any harm. It was like shooting a cabbage!"

"But what about the blood around the shoulder?"

"The dogs' blood, I would think. I need to run more tests, but I think we'll find any fluid in this arm will have ..."

"A sugar base?"

"Yeah. Plant sap."

"A vegetable?" The reporter appeared stunned. "A vegetable that thinks?"

"That's not as unusual as it might seem, Miss Connor." Professor Laurenz was so busy pontificating that he didn't notice her irritated expression. "Five million years ago, in the Pliocene Epoch, when the Earth was cooling, it could have been a toss-up as to whether the worms, fish, and lizards that dwelled on the Earth and evolved into us emerged victorious, or if plant life took over."

"Yyyyeah."

He smirked at her scoffing. "There is evidence of intelligence in the plant kingdom, Miss Connor. The acanthus century plant, for example, uses a sweet syrup to lure bats, mice, other small mammals, into its clutches and feeds on them."

"It sounds like a Dionaea muscipula."

"You're familiar with the Venus flytrap?" Connor gave him a tight smile, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Well, actually, there is a vague similarity."

"There's also the telegraph vine, Professor."

"You want to fill us in on that, Sandy?"

"Sure. It's been proven that it communicates with other vines of its species that are as far as twenty to a hundred miles away."

"Why would one plant want to talk to another?"

"Well, if there's an insect migration, while the first vine will be fodder for them, the others in the path will have an advanced warning and will actually change their chemical structure so that the insects take one taste, and the dinner bell fails to be rung."

"You're being facetious, Dr. Sandburg."

"Possibly, Professor, but it's a fact, none the less. There's also that plant that's turned up in Europe. I've been in communication with William Masen, the triffid wrangler from Great Britain."

"Triffid? Oh, yeah, those three-legged plants that actually go walkabout."

"Yes, Connor. And that's so strange. I mean, there are more wonders in the world than can be accounted for, but these plants suddenly appeared one day out of a clear blue sky. Bill Masen was actually one of the first people to be stung by a triffid and survive."

"I've been following the studies about that plant. Perhaps that will be the next phase in evolution." Dr. Carrington was flushed. Only a discovery in science affected him in that manner. "Just think. On the planet where this creature evolved, plantlife became the dominant species. It built a craft, powered by a source we have yet to discover, and traveled millions of miles to Earth. So powerful, so intelligent. Unhampered by the petty jealousies that plague mankind." Dr. Carrington was bent over the hand, carefully working something free of the palm. "Seeds! Painless, emotionless reproduction." He looked enthralled.

"Wait a second, Dr. Carrington!" Connor challenged. "You're one of the most brilliant minds on the planet; I'm not going to accuse you of being stuffed full of wild blueberry muffins, but it sounds like you're not only describing a super carrot, but a female one at that!"

"Not necessarily so. You know the male seahorse..." He stopped talking. The silence was disrupted by a clicking sound.

One by one, we turned to stare at the arm on the table.

Dr. Carrington's voice was tight. "Where is Miss Plummer? Dammit! Dr. Sandburg, please take this down. At 2:45 A.M., the hand became alive."

****

Part 12

I was on my way to the mess hall when Jim and his men came back in.

"You're gonna get frostbite, Bob," Erickson admonished the crew chief. "Go stick your hand in a pan of ice water and rub it."

"I think you're right, Ken." MacAuliff winked at him.

I opened my mouth to tell him that might not be such a good idea, but the crew chief was already heading for their quarters. I turned to the man who had made me see fireworks earlier.

"Jim, any luck finding our guest?"

"No. Simon's gone out with some of his men, but the wind is kicking up again, and any tracks will most likely be obliterated."

I knew the security team was taking their turn searching snow banks and drifts. I licked my lips. "Can I talk to you a minute? Alone?"

"Why, Chief! Is that what they're calling it these days, 'talking'? You sexy devil, you!" His teasing smile suddenly vanished. "Your heart rate is up. What's wrong?"

"How did you...?" My heart actually felt as if it was trying to rhumba out of my chest. "Never mind. Let me buy you a cup of coffee. The pot Dr. Chapman brewed before should still be warm." If it wasn't, I'd heat it up. I didn't think we'd have time for a new pot.

"It's about Plug Ugly?"

"Yeah."

Jim followed me into the empty mess hall. While I poured a couple of cups of coffee, he pushed the hood of his flight suit back off his head, tossed his gloves onto a table, and unzipped the outer wear.

"Start talking."

"That... that Thing didn't run out into the night just to get away from us. It..." He put his hand over mine, then turned it over, and I stared down at the sugar cube in it. "Jim?"

"That's the fifth one, Chief. At this rate, you'll be taking coffee with your sugar."

"I don't take sugar."

"I know, babe. I may not remember much about the other night, but I do remember that." He ran his thumb over my knuckles, then took my cup, went to the kitchen area and poured it down the sink, and brought me a fresh cup. "Here. This should be better. Now talk to me, Blair. What do you mean it didn't run to get away from us?"

"It was hungry, Jim. It went after those dogs because it wanted food."

"How do you figure that?"

"The arm we brought in had canine blood on it. At 2:45 it started moving."

"WHAT? That isn't possible!"

"You don't think so? Men from Mars aren't supposed to be possible either. Dr. Auerbach had a thermometer in the arm. He said there was a twenty degree rise in the temperature. He thinks that rise made it able to ingest the blood." I fiddled with my cup, avoiding his eyes. "I... I went back out to let the rest of the dogs loose. At least they'll have some kind of a chance if they're not chained like sitting ducks. Jim, one of the dogs was already gone; its collar was sliced through."

He looked as sick as I felt. "That means he's gonna come back, looking for another food source."

"Yeah. And I've got even more interesting news. It's a plant."

"A plant? Wait a second! That's why the bullets Barnes fired at it didn't do any harm!"

I was gratified that he picked up on that aspect of it so quickly. "And that's why the dogs were able to rip its arm off. You're gonna need axes, hatchets, cleavers, anything that'll slice and dice."

"I'll have to find Simon and make sure he's aware of this new turn of events."

"He knows, Jim. I told him before he and the guys went outside. I didn't want any of you coming face to face with that Thing and finding then that your gun isn't worth diddly." I dropped my voice, knowing Jim would still able to hear my next remark. "I'd go after the damned Thing bare-handed if it hurt you!"

"Chief!" He threaded his fingers through my hair, but there wasn't time even for a kiss. "We'd better check the station and see if it's already returned. Send someone to get Simon and his men back in here. I'll get my men. We'll start the search in the rooms off the lower corridors. If it is here, maybe we can corner it in the upper level. We'll meet in the main corridor in ten minutes."

****

Jim and his men were waiting, edgy, by the time I got back. My lover opened his mouth, but I spoke before he could say anything.

"Personal quarters are secured, Jim. So is sick bay. You ex-wife is still unconscious, but Mrs. Chapman isn't too concerned right now. And the radio room checks out too. Tex said he's going to stay put. He's got a fire extinguisher he thinks will be useful."

"Good. Has he been able to get anything out to Cascade?" He rubbed the back of his neck impatiently when I shook my head. "Okay, Eddie, as soon as we've checked out the greenhouse, I want you to go see what you can do to help Tex. General Fogarty is probably ready to string me up by the short hairs for not keeping in touch."

"To hear is to obey." Dykes grinned at him. "I'll do my best, Cap."

"All right," Jim continued. "The laboratories, mess hall, and rec room are all clear as well."

"We nearly thought we found the son-of-a-bitch," Taggart fumed, his frustration evident. "That Geiger counter Bob's toting picked up some radioactivity down that corridor." He pointed to the left.

"The mineralogy lab is down that corridor." I frowned. "We have uranium ore samples in there."

"Yeah." MacAuliff's grin was sour. "Dr. Carrington took great pleasure in telling us we were just picking up on your radioactive isotopes."

Arthur Carrington wasn't the most gracious of men; he was too wrapped up in his work, and didn't suffer fools lightly, but normally he was more civil than that. I wondered if he'd had any sleep since the saucer's arrival had set off the sound detectors.

"He was right; the lab was empty." Jim shrugged off the scientist's rudeness. "The only room we have left to search is the greenhouse. Carrington also told us you've got the only key, Chief."

"The greenhouse has been my baby right from the start. It broke my heart when I had to put locks on the interior and exterior doors, but Dr. Carrington pulled a real Captain Queeg about the Eskimos taking the strawberries." I reached for the lanyard around my neck and pulled the key out.

"Captain Queeg?"

"You know, The Caine Mutiny?" I'd enjoyed the character interaction in Herman Wouk's novel. Someone had gotten a copy from home for Christmas, and we'd all taken turns reading it. It wouldn't have surprised me if that book saw him nominated for a Pulitzer.

"I'm familiar with the book, but..."

"What? You thought I only read scientific journals?"

"Uh... sorry, Chief." My lover had the grace to look sheepish.

My lover. I turned away quickly and hurried to the greenhouse.

He was my lover. As I inserted the key in the lock, I was thankful that my pants were cut loosely enough to conceal my sudden arousal. I glanced over my shoulder to find Jim watching me with hot desire in his eyes, and I nearly broke the key in the lock.

"One second, Captain Ellison!" Dr. Carrington hurried toward us, three other scientists in tow. "We insist on being part of this search."

"I never said you couldn't join us, Doctor." Jim's eyes had turned chill. "Just stay out of the way until we're sure it's safe." He hefted his ax and took up a position that would allow him a clear view of the interior of the greenhouse once the door was opened. "Back away, Blair."

I backed away.

"Hold on!" Connor came running up with her Browning. "I want a picture!"

"I told the others, I'll tell you. Stay out of the way." Jim waited until he got her reluctant agreement, then nodded to Taggart. The black man rubbed his palms nervously against his thighs, then yanked back the door to reveal... an empty greenhouse.

There was a concerted release of held breaths, and Jim entered. I was about to follow him when Taggart shouldered past me.

"Hey!" I tried again.

"'Pardon me, Dr. Sandburg." The crew chief stepped around me and went into the hot, humid atmosphere of the greenhouse.

"'Scuse me, Doctor." Erickson was right behind him, and Dykes, Dr. Carrington, Dr. Voorhees, Dr. Stern, and Professor Laurenz. Connor grinned at me and sauntered past.

"Well, hell!" I was finally able to make my way into the greenhouse.

Tables were set up against each wall and in two rows in the center of the room. A variety of vegetables were in trays on the tables, as well as the strawberries. In the corners were a number of dwarf fruit trees that I was using in a 'Frankenstein' experiment; the premise was to see if I could produce edible apples and pears using the same tree as the host. I'd had no luck when I'd tried it with peaches and cherries, and the oranges and lemons were too similar to be considered an out-and-out success.

I was also experimenting with different types of fertilizers to see how I could enrich the limited amount of soil that was available in the research station. Bottles of liquid fertilizer lined the shelves that Dr. Chapman had helped me build, and beneath them were the sacks of potting soil.

Jim and his men were scouring the aisles, looking under the tables. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw plant sap smeared on a storage bin, and I was about to investigate, when Connor let out an enraptured, "Ahhh!" She swooped down on the bed of strawberries, popped one into her mouth, and closed her eyes in patent bliss. "Oh, Sandy, no wonder your Eskimos love these little beauts!"

"I am the very model of a modern major... um... botanist, Connor." I plucked a plump, ripe berry and offered it to Jim. "Care for a bite, Captain?"

He dipped his head and took it from my fingers with his teeth, then smiled as my breath hitched. He licked the juice from his lips, and my tongue swept over my own lips in helpless imitation.

"Captain." Dr. Carrington sounded irritated. He glared at Jim, and I hoped he hadn't witnessed the little by-play with the strawberry. "There is nothing alien in this room."

"I can see that, Doctor." He signaled to his men. "We're finished in here."

"In that case, we have work that needs to be done." He and the other scientists stood clustered together.

"There's nothing here for me either." Connor plucked another strawberry. "I'm going to see if Tex can get a message through for me. The greatest story since Noah's ark, and I can't get it to my editor. You should count yourself lucky, Ellison!" She grinned at Jim as she walked backward toward the door. "So few men can boast of losing not only a flying saucer, but its pilot as well."

"If she was a man..." Taggart frowned after her.

"You wouldn't find her so fascinating, big guy."

"The woman's a pain-in-the-ass, Jim!"

"You still find her fascinating though, don't you?"

"Give it up, Joel." Erickson slapped his back. "You know we can't keep secrets from our captain."

Dykes looked at him with concern, and Erickson gave a small shake of his head. I wondered what that was about.

"Assholes." Taggart's dark cheeks became darker under his flush, but he didn't appear angry.

Ice-blue eyes warmed with amusement. I observed this aspect of Jim's personality with interest.

"If you're not going to leave, Captain Ellison, please close the door." Dr. Carrington's tone was mild, but there was something underlying it...

Dr. Stern spoke rapidly in his ear, and Carrington smoothed his hair and nodded.

The senior botanist faced us. "Some of these plants are very delicate, and any change in temperature will hinder their growth, thereby negating the experiments you've worked so hard on, Blair."

"Come on, men." Jim looked over his shoulder at me, his eyebrow raised, and I shook my head. The greenhouse was my responsibility, and I was going to give it a once-over personally.

"Dr. Sandburg."

"Yes, Dr. Carrington?" I was approaching the storage bin.

"Would you mind finding Drs. Auerbach and Olson and sending them here? I'd like to speak with them, please. Oh, and I'll need the results of the experiments you ran on the MacCormick molds verified."

I came to an abrupt halt. "Excuse me? Those results have been verified."

"Andrew has brought up some discrepancies."

"Dr. Carrington..." Why was he questioning my work? There was no discrepancy that I knew of. "Dr. Stern?" I looked toward the man who was my actual superior. There was a hectic color high on his cheekbones. He shrugged, and his gaze skittered away from mine.

"I want those experiments run again." Carrington was adamant.

"But..."

"Thank you, Doctor." He turned away in blatant dismissal.

I stormed toward the door, my fists clenched, growing more and more frustrated.

Jim was lingering outside the greenhouse. I opened my mouth to vent some of my aggravation, but before I could say a word,

"And please close the door!"

I closed it. I used more force than was actually necessary; later I would be embarrassed by such a childish act, but right then it felt good.

"Trouble, Chief?"

"I've got a degree in psychology, a master's in anthropology, and a doctorate in botany," I snarled, "and the man treats me like a... Do you have any idea how many times I've verified my results?"

"Chief..."

"You know what it is, Jim? Andrew Laurenz is Carrington's fair-haired boy, he's being groomed to take over when he passes on the torch. It fries Carrington's ass that Dr. Stern keeps giving me that hack's work, and I do it better and more expeditiously than he ever could."

"You're tense, Chief."

"You think this is tense? You ain't seen nothing yet!" I was so steamed I felt like Mount Vesuvius about to erupt. "Would you believe I actually cited Laurenz? Man, who did he steal... Shit. I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

"I hate to say this, but Stern didn't back you up."

"No. He didn't." And that not only angered me, it disturbed me. Why hadn't he backed me up? What in hell was going on?

"I wish there was something I could do to ease your tension." Jim stepped behind me, and his hands settled on my shoulders, kneading the knotted muscles.

I looked toward his men, but they had rounded the bend of the corridor and were out of sight. I groaned and dropped my head. "God, that feels good, Jim."

"Glad the military can be of some service." The smile in his voice did things to my libido.

"I could stay like this forever, but..."

"I know, Chief. Orders."

"Yeah. Thanks, Jim." He dropped his hands, and I turned to face him. He was so close he encroached on my personal space. I stepped closer, until there was no space between us. I ran my thumb over his lower lip. One day, I thought, one day I really want those lips around my dick again...

His lips parted, and he sucked my thumb into his mouth. He rubbed his tongue along it, the way he had when it was my dick. His eyelids drifted down until only a sliver of blue was visible. His chest rose and fell with each rapid breath. My own tongue restlessly rubbed my upper lip.

I ran my other hand over his close-cropped hair. "Jim!"

He let my thumb slide out of his mouth, and I dragged it over the faint cleft in his chin, leaving a path of moisture behind.

"I have to kiss you!" I heard the desperate hunger in my words and was shocked out of the haze of lust I'd been enveloped in. "Dammit, we can't do this in the middle of this corridor!"

"We can't? No, you're right, babe, we can't." He smiled.

What an innocuous word that was, I mused. According to Webster's Dictionary, a smile was a widening of the mouth, with parted lips. It was obvious to me the guy from Webster's had never seen Jim Ellison smile.

That widening of his mouth, with parted lips, was like the aurora borealis lighting up the Arctic sky. It was warmth on a cold, cold night. It was being laid out naked on a soft bed and having every inch of my body lapped, mapped, and declared the possession of the man before me. It was...

"Are you still tense, babe?"

"Yes!" I growled.

"But in a good way?" His had cupped my arousal.

This time I laughed. "Yes."

His sigh was warm on my face. "Well, our visitor isn't in the station, so I'd better get my men back to searching outside. Y'know something, Chief? It would be swell to be on a sun-drenched beach somewhere with you."

"Ever make love in the sand, Jim?"

He groaned. "When we have this Man from Mars thing settled..."

"Yeah..."

The door to the greenhouse opened. "Dr. Sandburg, are you still here? Where are the doctors? Captain Ellison. I thought you were going to... er... do military things."

"Getting them, Dr. Carrington. I'll see you later, Jim."

"You bet, Chief. Doctor Carrington." He strode off in the direction his men had gone, and I watched his ass.

There was a cough behind me.

"I'm on my way, Dr. Carrington." And I left to find the two scientists.

****

How long had I been working in my lab? The results of the tests I'd run on the mold spores came out the same way, no matter which way I looked at them, and I flung the papers away from me.

I knew there had to be something wrong with what I was doing, with the way I was doing it, otherwise why would Dr. Carrington be questioning my work?

I scrubbed my face. I couldn't understand why Dr. Stern hadn't backed me up. I respected the man, even more so after working with him for the past year. If he was unhappy with the way I did things, this was the first I'd heard of it. Why hadn't he taken the time to tell me?

I'd thought I was a good botanist, but apparently the senior scientists disagreed with my assessment of my own capabilities.

I gnawed on my lower lip. Until Eli Stoddard made mincemeat of the topic I'd selected for my dissertation, I'd also thought I was a good anthropologist.

Thinking of the subject of my dissertation...

I began to think about Jim. I remembered how he'd been able to name every ingredient in the drinks we had had at the Hideaway. Taste.

Here at the station, he'd known something was wrong long before Barnes came running into the mess hall. Hearing.

He'd known the bodies of the dogs were there in the snow, had picked up the scent of their blood. Sight and smell.

And how had he been able to untie himself by touch alone? One of Naomi's gentleman friends had been a sailor who had been tickled by my hero worship of him. He'd spent hours teaching me to tie knots.

I ticked off the senses one by one, growing more and more excited. Had I found an honest-to-god sentinel?

And then I deflated. Did it really matter? I was a botanist, and in spite of everything, I really liked my job.

I left my lab and went to the mess hall.

"Mrs. C! What are you doing here?"

"No one seems to have gotten much sleep. The boys are getting breakfast ready."

"Breakfast? It's only... Holy smoke, it's 8 A.M. already?"

"This has been a long night." She shrugged.

"That's for sure!"

She pressed a cup of coffee into my hands.

A draft of cold air blew in, followed by four men so bundled it was impossible to identify who they were. Gloves were yanked off and bare hands unwound scarves, shoved snow-covered hoods back off their heads, and flipped off goggles that protected their eyes from the biting pellets of snow.

It was Jim, Taggart, MacAuliff, and Barnes. They looked worn out.

"Lee! More coffee!" Mrs. Chapman ordered.

Shivers shook each of the men, and they fumbled with the zippers of their outer gear.

"Let me give you a hand with that, Jim."

"Thanks, Chief. I've never been anywhere this cold before!"

"Welcome to the North Pole." While I got him out of his wet flight suit, Mrs. Chapman and one of the boys helped Taggart and Barnes. MacAuliff indicated he'd take care of himself.

"Stubborn Scot."

He gave Jim a tired salute.

"We're not gonna be able to keep this up, Cap," Taggart muttered, blowing on his fingers. I offered him a steaming cup of coffee, then brought one to my lover. "It has to be fifty below out there!"

"You're right." Jim ran a hand over his face. He gave me a quick smile and accepted the cup. "I already talked to Captain Banks about it. As soon as he and his men have made a quick sweep, they're coming back in, and we'll make sure everything is buttoned up tight until this storm eases."

"Danny." Mrs. Chapman seemed concerned about Barnes. "Why were you out there with Captain Ellison's men?"

Jim was the one who answered. "Lieutenant Erickson was falling over from exhaustion, and Lieutenant Dykes has been trying to help Tex get more power to his radio. Barnes volunteered."

Mrs. Chapman squeezed the younger man's arm in approval.

He hunched his shoulder. "I just don't want everyone thinking I can't pull my weight."

I noticed his eyes lingered on MacAuliff before they dropped.

"You do a good job, Danny."

"Thanks, Mrs. C. But I really made a fool of myself yesterday afternoon when I...er..." He bit his lip and sighed. "When I puked all over my boots."

"That's nothing, Barnes." MacAuliff toed off his boots, then stripped the pants of his flight suit down and off his legs. Barnes' eyes grew enormous. MacAuliff noticed, and his lips twitched in a satisfied grin. "The first time I had to jump out of a B-19, I sh..." He turned bright red, and cleared his throat. "Well, I had to change my shorts after I hit the ground."

Barnes gave a choke of laughter, then covered his mouth in embarrassment. "I'm sorry!"

"Nah, it's okay. Things like that happen. Don't be so hard on yourself." He pulled his boots back on.

Jim looked at the outer gear scattered over the floor. "Joel, do me a favor. Finish your coffee and take the flight suits to our quarters. Maybe they'll be dry enough to wear sometime in the near future."

"Got it, Cap. Damn snow got in over my boots and soaked my socks. I'll change while I'm there. I really hate when I have cold feet."

"Taggart! Say it ain't so, mate!"

The black man spewed out a mouthful of coffee. "Jesus, Connor, don't sneak up on me like that!" He mopped his mouth on his sleeve. "Uh... say what ain't so?"

"A big man like you, getting cold feet? I'm so disillusioned!"

"Connor!" His teeth gritted, he scowled fiercely, and she stood there, a cool smile on her lips, returning his stare. "What are you doing here anyway? I thought you'd be pestering Tex to get your story sent."

"The transmitter isn't powerful enough. Lieutenant Dykes said there wasn't a thing he could do. This storm is preventing anything from getting out." She turned away, her ever-present camera banging her hip. "How's about some coffee, Mrs. Chapman?" Connor found a seat at one of the tables and placed the cup down. She rotated it between her palms. The seat she chose gave her an unobstructed view of Taggart.

"I take it you didn't find anything?" Mrs. Chapman went around making sure everyone had hot coffee.

"Barnes flushed a polar bear!" Bob MacAuliff grinned at the younger man.

"Were you scared? Those bears are nothing to sneeze at. They hate being disturbed when they're hibernating." Connor ignored all the surprised expressions.

"Not once I saw it was just a polar bear." Barnes sent a little smile MacAuliff's way, but again quickly looked away.

"Here. Have some coffee." He put his cup in Barnes' hands, then folded his own hands around them.

Jim was frowning. I took my coffee cup and went to stand beside him. "What's wrong?"

"I'd have sworn..." He lowered his voice. "I smelled Ken's aftershave on Bob."

"You mean Bob borrowed it?"

He gave me a look that asked if I'd fallen on my head. "I smelled it on him. On his clothes, on his hands....

"Ohhh."

"Yes. 'Ohhh.' I hope Bob isn't..." His lips tightened, and he said nothing more, just stared broodingly at his crew chief.

"Why do you care?" It came out harsher than I would have liked, but what we had was too new for me to be completely secure in it.

"They're my men, Chief." Jim gave me that look again. "The last thing I need is a romantic triangle."

"And that's the only reason you're concerned?"

"Jesus, it's enough! If Bob is screwing around on Ken, there'd be hard feelings. I'd have to see either one or the other was transferred out of my crew, maybe both of them, and they're damned good men. They've been with me since just after the war, and I don't want to break in a new navigator or a new crew chief!"

Well, as long as he wasn't disapproving because he was jealous. I relaxed, and a yawn caught me unaware. I didn't even have time to slap a hand over my mouth. "Sorry, Jim. Geez, I'm beat. All I want to do is go to bed and sleep a hundred years."

"Think you're Sleeping Beauty, Chief?" His voice went no further than my ears.

"Only if you're Prince Charming." I knew it would take someone with sentinel abilities to hear what I said.

Jim made a sound like the rumble of a jungle cat, and his gaze swept over me, furnace hot. I licked my lips, and that gaze narrowed on my mouth. He leaned toward me, and I wondered if he was going to kiss me, in spite of the fact that we weren't alone.

And then the door to the mess hall burst open. Dr. Stern staggered in, his face twisted in pain, and his left sleeve shredded.

It wasn't until I reached his side that I realized it wasn't his sleeve that was shredded; it was the flesh of his arm.

****

Part 13

I dropped my cup and caught him before his legs gave out from under him, and lowered him gently to the floor.

"Lee, towels!" Mrs. Chapman was pale but contained. "I'll get the first aid kit. Captain Ellison, call my husband, please!"

Jim went to the P.A. "This is the intercomm too?"

I glanced over at him. "Yeah. Just flip that switch."

He did, then leaned close to the mesh that covered the grill. "Dr. Chapman to the mess hall ASAP."

I sat with my legs sprawled out, cradling the injured man in my arms. "What happened? Dr. Stern, what happened?"

I could feel his blood saturating my shirt. Lee handed me some towels, and I placed them over the ruin that was his upper arm and applied pressure.

There was an abrasion on his forehead, and a lump was rapidly forming. His eyes were closed and dark smudges stood out like bruises under them.

We were surrounded by Jim, MacAuliff, and Barnes, Taggart and Connor.

"Please, don't crowd us!" Mrs. Chapman knelt beside him, snapped an ampoule of ammonium carbonate and waved it under his nose. I forced myself not to flinch away from the odor that was almost overpowering.

I looked over my shoulder to see if Jim was being affected by the smelling salts. He was right behind me, his brow was furrowed, and he was swaying.

"Dial it down, Jim!"

It took a second, but he got himself under control. "Right, Chief. Thanks."

"Give him some air, and give me room to work!" Mrs. Chapman snapped impatiently, and she was automatically obeyed.

"Can you find out what happened?" Jim, as the officer in charge, would need to know.

"Josef, who did this to you?"

His eyes fluttered open. For a second they were terrified, and his body stiffened, but then he sagged in relief. "I made it to the mess hall?" His voice was hoarse, a harsh whisper.

"Yes, you're safe. But what happened?"

Dr. Stern swallowed. "I was working in the greenhouse. Suddenly there was a blast of cold air. I heard Olson scream. Something struck at me, and I fell over. I hit my head..." He touched the lump on his forehead; his eyes closed, and he seemed to fade. Mrs. Chapman waved the ampoule under his nose again. His body jerked.

"Can you continue, Dr. Stern?"

He nodded; the action made him groan. "I must have been unconscious. When I came to again..." His voice was so low I had to bend forward to distinguish his words. "When I came to again, they were both dead, Auerbach and Olson, their throats were cut."

I gasped, and Mrs. Chapman echoed the sound. I'd worked with those men for the past year, and she had known them even longer.

"Thank god Helen isn't here! This is going to kill her!" Mrs. Chapman's eyes clouded. Dr. Olson's wife... widow.

Jim grabbed an axe. "All right, we're going to the greenhouse."

"Jim!"

"Chief, I need you to warn everyone to stay put. And I want you to stay here. Please," when he saw I was ready to argue.

I eased the injured man out of my arms and managed to get to my feet. I grabbed Jim's arm. He didn't object, although later I realized my grip must have been painful; it left bruises. "Be careful?"

"Always."

I went to the intercomm again and drew in a deep breath to steady myself. The last thing I wanted was to cause a panic, although I was unsure how successful I would be. When I was certain my voice wouldn't reveal the level of my anxiety, I threw the switch and spoke. "Attention, please. Our visitor is back, and he's dangerous. Stay where you are and keep your doors locked."

"Like that's gonna do any good," someone grumbled quietly. "How could it get in? The outer door to the greenhouse was bolted shut!"

Good question.

Connor had a death grip on her camera. "I'm going, Ellison."

"Just stay out of the way."

She nodded tersely.

"Everyone have a weapon?" They held up their axes. Connor had one of Lee's cleavers in her free hand. "Okay, let's go." They started for the door.

Dr. Chapman came in, with Simon right behind him.

"What's going on?" Simon was still in his outer gear.

"Josef!" Dr. Chapman crouched beside the injured scientist.

"The Thing's in the greenhouse. So are two dead scientists," Jim explained shortly, and Simon's mouth became a rigid line. Without saying anything further, they all left, and suddenly the room felt empty.

Dr. Chapman raised the blood-soaked towels. His eyelids flickered, the only sign of his distress.

"You've certainly gotten yourself into a pretty kettle of fish, Josef."

"Hugo, I need to get him to sick bay. I'll be able to stitch him up there."

"Yes, Esther. We'll have to carry him." He looked up at me, and I nodded. "Lee, more towels."

****

Sick bay was down the corridor and around the bend from the mess hall, but that trip seemed to take forever.

It wasn't very large, suitable mostly for sprains, strains, and the odd cut or dog bite; with Jim's ex-wife and now Dr. Stern the quarters were tight.

"I can't stop the bleeding," Mrs. Chapman said through tight lips.

Dr. Stern opened his eyes, which were glazed with pain. "Please, Esther, don't let me die."

"Of course I won't let you die, you foolish man! I'll stitch you up, give you two quarts regular, and you'll be good as new."

Dr. Chapman and I laid him onto a table as carefully as we could while Mrs. Chapman scrubbed up.

"Blair, would you mind removing his shirt? Hugo, prepare the anesthesia, please, dear."

I found the scissors and cut through the material of Dr. Stern's sleeve. My stomach heaved at the sight of what had been done to his arm. I forced myself to smile as if I weren't in the least disturbed. "This is nothing, Dr. Stern. Geez, I thought it was going to be serious! Why, Mrs. C will have you up and dancing the Lindy in no time!"

His free hand manacled my wrist. "It's bad. I know, Blair. You have to listen to me. I have to tell you..."

"It can wait until Mrs. Chapman has you patched up. I'm not going anywhere."

"No, but ... Listen!" The senior botanist was becoming agitated. "You must listen to me! In the greenhouse. Arthur found some molds that were wilted. It would only have taken twenty seconds of exposure to cold air to damage them like that."

"The Thing had been in there?" The layers of clothing I wore suddenly weren't enough to keep me warm.

"Yes, apparently just before our arrival. Professor Laurenz examined the door minutely. The bolt had been sliced through. Unless you tried to open the door, you would have no cause to notice that. That's why Captain Ellison and his men didn't see it." He took a breath. "The storage bin..."

"I thought I saw plant sap on it. I was going to take a look at it, but Dr. Carrington..."

"Yes. I'm so sorry, Blair." His distress now appeared emotional rather than physical. "Arthur saw that as well."

"Josef, if you don't calm down..." Mrs. Chapman's tension was evident to me, even if Dr. Stern was too caught up in his confession.

"No! Let me finish telling him this! There was nothing wrong with the results of your experiments, Blair. I knew if you realized what we had discovered, you would have gone right to that captain and told him. We couldn't allow that. We needed to get you out of the greenhouse. I did what I thought was best." He laughed, a short, bitter sound. "Good intentions. The path to hell is paved with them. It hurt you, made you doubt yourself, I saw that too late, hadn't even thought... I'm sorry; I'm so sorry."

"That's quite enough, Josef. Blair forgives you. Hugo?"

Dr. Chapman started to put the anesthesia mask over the injured man's face, but he batted it away. "I must finish! After you left, Blair, we opened the bin and found one of the sled dogs stuffed within it. There was a curiously shrunken quality about it. When Auerbach showed up, he did a quick necropsy. The animal had been bled dry!"

"Oh, no!"

"Don't blame Arthur. He asked us to keep watch with him, but he made it very clear it was a voluntary decision for each of us. We all agreed to it. The opportunity to communicate with this being..." His eyes became frantic. "We cannot communicate with it! It will be the ruination of mankind!"

Dr. Chapman got the mask over Dr. Stern's face and started the anesthesia. He struggled a moment, and then succumbed to the gas.

Mrs. Chapman set to work in trying to repair the arm. "I hope I can reattach the nerves. If I can't... Blair, I'm going to need two bottles of plasma to start, sweetie. Would you get them for me, please?"

"Sure." I opened the refrigerator that held the station's blood supply.

It was empty.

****

We were lucky that Dr. Stern had a positive Rh factor. My blood type was O negative, and I qualified as a universal donor, but he was going to need more blood than I could supply.

Dr. Chapman obtained a pint of my blood and placed a bandage over the vein in my forearm. "You'd better go change your shirt, Blair."

"Yes." The material was clammy against my skin, but I decided to pay a visit to Dr. Carrington's personal lab first.

I arrived there, filled with questions.

I left, stunned and sickened by what I had seen, and changing my shirt became the furthest thing from my mind.

Mrs. Chapman had assured Dr. Stern that I would forgive him, but I didn't know that I could forgive them.

****

The coffee that had spilled when I'd dropped my cup was in a small puddle on the floor of the mess hall. I found a towel that had been overlooked in the haste to find something to stop Dr. Stern's bleeding, and I used it to mop up the liquid.

I sat down. Connor's cup of coffee, long since grown cold, was on the table before me. Beneath it was a ring, and I concentrated on making sure the cup was precisely centered on it.

A sound disturbed the silence of the room, and I gazed up to see Jim standing in the doorway, tension in every line of his body, his eyes narrowed, fastened on me. He inhaled and just as abruptly relaxed. I raised an eyebrow.

"Not your blood, Chief." He turned as the rest of the party that had gone to the greenhouse entered the mess hall.

"Next time, MacAuliff, make sure you raise the sights on that thing!" Simon gestured to the weapon the other man carried. "You nearly turned me and my men into Swiss cheese!"

"Sorry, Captain Banks."

"What...?" I met the crew chief's eyes. "I thought you knew bullets would do nothing against that Thing."

MacAuliff gave me a half-grin that was distinctly lacking in humor. "Force of habit, Dr. Sandburg. It wasn't a pretty sight, not that Thing, and not what was in the greenhouse."

"That's what I don't understand. Why the greenhouse?" Simon's black face had a grayish cast to it. "Why not the radio room or the mineralogy lab with the uranium?"

"It's the only place with arable soil, Simon. They found a dog in there, you know, Dr. Carrington and the others. It had been bled dry. Dr. Stern told me, before the anesthesia put him out."

"The one you said was missing, Blair?"

"I don't know, Simon." I'd told him about that before I'd gone in search of Jim. "I hope it didn't get to any of the others. Were you able to get Dr. Auerbach and Dr. Olson out of there?"

"No. It was in there waiting for us." Jim's tension had ratcheted up, his level of anxiety seeming to rise in geometric progression. No one else appeared to be aware of it. "I didn't know. I didn't hear anything, didn't smell anything."

The others looked curious, but I understood. His acute senses apparently had failed him.

"Tell me what happened, Jim." I stood and gestured to the seat beside me, and after he'd sat down, I began kneading his shoulders. "One good turn..." I murmured. The muscles beneath my fingers were like iron bands.

"We waited by the inside door to the greenhouse while Simon and his men went back outside to make sure it didn't escape through the outer door." He gave a harsh laugh. "Talk about your human arrogance. Bob was ready with the burp gun. Connor had her camera set to go."

"Did you get your picture, Connor?"

"No. It happened too fast, and Ellison was in the way."

"You want to go back there, Connor? I'll open the door for you."

"NO!" She was pale, the lines around her eyes and mouth pronounced.

Jim's mouth twisted, but he nodded and resumed talking. "I opened the door. Jesus, it was right there! Eight feet tall, and those eyes...! It lashed out at me, but I was able to get out of the way in time." No doubt his senses had warned him of the impending attack. I'd have to give some thought as to why he hadn't known it was so close. "We slammed the door on its arm. Its arm... " He seemed to drift for a second, then shook his head. "It made that mewling sound Barnes had told us about, high-pitched and angry. Once the door was shut, I gave the nod to Bob to blast the Thing while the rest of us found two by fours to chock the door."

I leaned down. "But why, Jim?" I whispered in his ear. "You knew bullets wouldn't hurt it."

"No, but I hoped it would distract it, buy us enough time to brace the door. The key was gone."

"It's trapped in there now, that's for damn sure," Simon growled.

"You think so?" Taggart had come trailing in, wiping a handkerchief over his face, and caught the end of the conversation.

"What are you talking about, Taggart?" Connor glared at him. "The walls are corrugated iron, Captain Banks and his men blocked off the outer door, and we secured the inner one. There's no way that Thing can get free!"

"How did it get in here to begin with?" Simon found a clean cup and poured himself some coffee. He took a sip and grimaced. "Scorched! Who the fuck left the flame on under the pot?"

"We had other things on our minds, Simon," I snapped. I knew his annoyance wasn't aimed at me, but my nerves were so raw any comment felt like an accusation.

"Sorry, Blair." He was surprised. I never lost my temper. "With everything that's been going on... How's Dr. Stern?"

"I don't know. He's lost a lot of blood. Mrs. Chapman finally finished sewing him together. I gave a pint of blood, and Redding and Stone are donating right now, Smith is in the wings, and Dr. Chapman said he was willing also. If any of your men are A or B positive, would you ask them if they'll donate? So far the only good thing that's come out of this is that Dr. Stern is AB positive."

"Huh?"

"Makes him a universal recipient."

"Wait a second. I just brought up thirty-five units of plasma! No one's been hurt in the time we've been here! Well, except for the two men in the greenhouse."

"And your ex-wife, Captain." Mrs. Chapman came in. "Is there any coffee left?"

"How's she doing?" he asked reluctantly.

"She's begun drifting in and out of consciousness. We're just lucky she doesn't need blood. Coffee?"

"You don't want what's in the pot. I'll make some fresh." Connor went to the cooking area. "Say one word, Taggart, and I'll pop you one!"

"Not me, Connor. Word has it you make java so strong you could float a horseshoe in it."

"Damn right I can." She took it as a compliment.

"Mrs. C, how is Dr. Stern?"

She shook her head. "Time will tell. He's started to run a fever. It's low-grade right now. Blair, were you able to find out what happened to those units of blood?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I found out."

"Chief?"

I pulled a wad of papers from my back pocket and smoothed them out. "Dr. Carrington's notes." The scientists in Dr. Carrington's lab had gotten into a vociferous argument, and I'd managed to leave without anyone knowing I had taken them. "I think you'd better read them."

Jim scanned them quickly. "Oh, no. Oh, sweet jesus, no!"

"Jim, what is it?"

"Carrington's..." He couldn't bring himself to say it, so I did.

"While he had me verifying those goddammed mold spores, Dr. Carrington was doing a little gardening." I took the pages back from Jim. "He took the seeds from the palm of that Thing's hand, planted them, and saturated the soil with two units of plasma. That was at 3:15. By 4 AM the first vines had broken through the soil, and twenty minutes later sprouts had developed. He used another two units of plasma every hour. When I saw them, they had form. Professor Voorhees had a stethoscope against the side of one of the larger ones."

"Huh?"

I made an unhappy sound. "The ones closer to the source of nourishment, the blood, were larger, while the ones further away were considerably smaller. I could almost find it as... fascinating as Dr. Carrington obviously does, except... Anyway, Professor Voorhees said he could hear them. That it was like the wail of a newborn baby."

"This is not good. This is really not good! Joel, Bob!"

Taggart snapped to attention, hefting the axe in his hand.

"Where's Bob?"

"Said something about taking a leak, Jim." He stared at Connor, clearly expecting her to... What? Blush? Sneer? Top it with something more graphic? She stared at him, all expression smoothed from her face, then turned and poured Mrs. Chapman her coffee.

Jim nodded. "Simon, as head of security in this station, would you accompany me to Dr. Carrington's lab?"

"Yeah. Let's go. Barnes." He looked around. "Where's Barnes?"

I'd seen him follow MacAuliff out of the mess hall. Maybe he had to... use the lavatory too.

"The hell with it." Simon went to the intercomm, then swore. "If I tell them to meet us at Carrington's lab, the eggheads will know we're wise to them. Mrs. Chapman, if Barnes and MacAuliff turn up here, tell them where we are, and tell them to haul ass."

"Yes, Simon."

"I'm going too."

"Geez, Connor, don't you know any other words?" Taggart demanded.

She blew an exasperated raspberry at him.

****

"Dr. Carrington."

"Captain Ellison, I did not request your presence here." The senior scientist was hooking up another bottle of plasma. The sprouts seemed even larger than when I had last seen them.

Jim closed his fingers around the tubing that would feed into the soil. "Two of your colleagues are in the greenhouse, suspended from the ceiling, their throats cut."

"That was not my fault," Carrington said calmly. "I did not ask them to do anything I would not do myself! I was in the greenhouse; I took the same risks..."

"Blair." My name was spoken quietly, and I turned to see Dr. Chapman standing there. All I could think was that something had happened to Dr. Stern. I must have turned pale, because he brought his hand to rest comfortingly on my shoulder. "He's doing better. I started him on a third pint of blood. His temperature has come down a bit. It's around 101."

"Mrs. Chapman said it was low-grade!" I kept my voice low.

"It spiked, but it has come down. We're doing everything we can for him, Blair."

"I was so angry with him. I felt so betrayed. And now he might..."

He squeezed my shoulder to get my attention. "You had every right to be angry. You're not a child, and he shouldn't have treated you like one. He's been my colleague for quite a few years, Blair, but I can't condone what he and Arthur have done."

We turned to look at the plant bed with an alien lifeform developing in it.

Jim was saying, "They're supplying nourishment to seedlings much as you're doing with this plasma, Doctor. I have to say I much prefer your way. It's neater."

"Captain Ellison, we are scientists. We owe it to our species to learn as much as we can from this being!"

"What can we learn from that," Taggart interrupted rudely, "except maybe a quicker way to die?"

"All that knowledge! That wisdom! Imagine, traveling all those millions of miles! We must do whatever it takes, and yes, even die, if that's what it takes, if it will enhance our store of knowledge!"

"Dr. Carrington, you're a certified genius, with enough letters after your name to have your own alphabet. You've won the Nobel prize. If you were for sale, I could get a million bucks from any foreign power for you." Connor's words made him preen slightly. He hadn't noticed her expression. "But right now, I think you're mistaking knowledge and wisdom."

His brows met above his nose in a frigid frown.

"She's right, Arthur. We don't know whether our visitor is coming in peace, or if he, it," Dr. Chapman sighed. "If this being is a scout, the forerunner of an intergalactic invasion."

"Come now, Dr. Chapman. You're speaking like a frightened child instead of a man of science!"

"You're right, Arthur, I am frightened!"

"Right," Jim said. "Let's destroy this."

"You cannot..."

"Dr. Carrington." Tex came strolling in, a sheaf of papers in his hand. "There was a break in the weather, and I got that message through to General Fogarty."

"And his response?" Carrington was almost quivering with excitement.

"Yeah, I got that too, 'though toward the end it started breakin' up pretty good. Had to take it down in shorthand." He began to read the messages from Cascade. "'Fogarty to Ellison. Understand the pilot of the craft is alive. Use every means available to keep it alive.'"

"There, you see, Captain. You must obey your superior's orders." Carrington's eyes glittered manically, and again I recalled that he hadn't slept in a few days. He usually got by on very little sleep, referring to it as a thief of time better spent doing other things. Maybe this time he was going on too little sleep.

Jim took a step toward him, but Tex distracted him by clearing his throat.

"Next message, 'Fogarty to Ellison. Radio silence is unnecessary. Acknowledge previous message.' 'Same to same. Continued silence is confusing. Acknowledge.' Same to same. Acknowledge.' 'Same to same.'" Jim and Taggart joined in. "'Acknowledge at once!'"

Tex folded the papers and tucked them back in his pocket.

"Look, Tex, get back on the horn. Tell General Fogarty that Thing's dangerous. It's already killed two people!"

Tex pulled out a notebook and scribbled down the message. "Anything else, Captain Ellison?"

"No. Yeah! Get someone to wake up Dykes. He should have had plenty of sleep by now."

The radio man tipped him a salute and turned to walk out, pausing to step out of the way as Barnes and MacAuliff came running in. "Sorry, Cap. We were in the... uh..." They were both flushed.

"Never mind, Tex. Bob can do it."

"Bob can do what?" MacAuliff grinned.

"Go get Eddie. I want a message out to Fogarty if it has to be delivered by dogsled!"

"On my way, Jim." He glanced at Barnes, who glanced at Simon.

"Do you need me for anything, sir?"

"No. Get some rest. Who knows when we'll have another SNAFU. Come on. We've got to figure out what we're going to do."

"I want the rest of the plasma, Dr. Carrington."

"So sorry, I've used them all up."

"Thirty-five units?"

"You know how voracious the appetite of young things can be, Captain Ellison."

Jim was appalled.

I looked at the seedlings, which seemed to pulse with life. "What type blood are you, Doctor?"

That question brought his attention to me. "I'm... why, I'm... I'm B positive. Why?"

"Dr. Stern's going to need more blood. I'm sure you won't have any problem donating a pint?" There was an easy-going smile on my lips, but he could read my eyes. They promised I'd be after him if he didn't turn up.

"No. Of course not."

Voorhees and Laurenz stepped forward until they flanked Dr. Carrington.

"You gentlemen, also." I waited until they nodded. "Good." I walked out.

None of us said anything until we got to the bend in the corridor. "Do you think they realize they've lost you, Blair?" Simon hadn't bothered staying behind with the scientists.

I shrugged. "For double domes, they can really lack smarts."

"What are you talking about, Chief?"

"I agree that we need to unlock the secrets of nature, but they're putting the quest for knowledge above the good of mankind. That Thing in the greenhouse is reproducing itself, just as Dr. Carrington is doing in his lab. Fifteen seeds from one palm. That means thirty from two."

"I can do the math, Chief."

"And suppose this isn't a fully mature representative of its species? Has he stopped to think what a hundred of those Things could do? A thousand? Needing blood to survive? If we don't destroy that Thing, it may well succeed in destroying us!"

"But what did Simon mean when he said they'd lost you?"

"It means that when this is over, I'm leaving the North Pole. I'll dig ditches if I have to, but I won't be a party to that, and I won't work with men who think that way."

"Sandburg's pretty impressive when he's mad, isn't he?"

"Yeah." Jim sounded proud. "And that's not the only thing about him that's impressive." And this time Jim sounded... possessive.

I suddenly realized how uncomfortable I was. "I've got to change this shirt. I'll meet you... Fuck. Where should I meet you?"

Simon pulled a cigar from his shirt pocket. "I've got to check on the men I've posted outside the greenhouse."

"I'll make sure Sandburg makes it to his room safely. Can't be too careful."

Simon grinned around the cigar between his lips, then took it from his mouth and pointed it toward us. "Shouldn't take you more than ten minutes, I would think. I'll meet you in my office, and we'll plot strategy. I have the blueprints to the station. Ten minutes, gentlemen."

He walked briskly down the corridor whistling through his teeth, and I started laughing when I recognized the tune.

If I Knew You Were Coming I'd Have Baked a Cake.

****

Part 14

When the possibility of death is near, the urge to mate becomes almost overwhelming. I knew that from experience.

I opened the door to my room and stepped in. Jim was right behind me. The odor of sex hung in the air, faint, but still there, and I could feel my dick get half-hard in recollection.

Jim had sucked me to a mind-blowing orgasm, had curled his tongue around my dick in a final caress, and I'd collapsed backward onto my bed, absolutely, completely, totally boneless. He had given a huff of a laugh, and I'd cracked open an eye and watched him. He'd risen to his feet and rolled me over onto my belly.

My cheek had been flat against the rough cloth of the blanket. Jim petted my ass cheeks, and I'd basked and hummed in sated pleasure.

Jim had set my knees, spread wide, on the edge of the bed and hoisted up my hips, and first he'd worked a couple of lubricated fingers up my ass, crossing and re-crossing my prostate, working to relax me, although I was already so relaxed I was on the verge of melting, but he kept at it until I was mindless and begging, his name a litany on my lips.

He'd withdrawn his fingers, lined his dick up with my asshole, and he'd eased it into me when what I'd wanted... what I wanted...

Jim took a step toward me. I swallowed and ran my tongue over my lips, and he gave me another one of those smiles. It took a supreme act of will to keep the moan behind my teeth, knowing that this time I would melt into a puddle at his feet.

"Let's get you out of that bloody shirt, Chief." He began unbuttoning it. "Do you know, I nearly had a heart attack when I saw all that blood. Then I suddenly realized it wasn't yours. I'm sorry Dr. Stern was hurt, but I was so relieved you weren't." He pushed it off my shoulders.

"I could tell the minute you knew it wasn't my blood." The blood on my shirt had seeped through my undershirt to my skin. I stared at the mess in distaste, grabbed the hem, and yanked it up and over my head.

"Oh, babe!"

Red tinged my arm and chest. "He bled so much, Jim." I used a clean, dry part of my undershirt to wipe it off, then dropped it to the floor. "Oh, damn. I just remembered. I've got no clean clothes."

"What about this?" Jim took the shirt I'd draped over the back of my chair and started to hand it to me.

"Uh... " It was the shirt I'd worn the other day, when I'd met him. I was stunned to realize it had been just the other day. We'd gone to dinner, had drinks afterwards, and then had each other on the front seat of Henri Brown's borrowed Rambler. The front of this shirt had dried come on it. I wondered it he could...

His nose twitched.

Of course he could!

He held the shirt by the shoulders, a slow smile lighting his face. "Come on, Chief."

I smiled back at him, turned my back, and slid my arms into the sleeves. He eased it up over my shoulders, and his arms came around to embrace me. His cheek was rough with his morning beard, and the sensation against the side of my neck as his lips grazed over it had me rubbing my ass shamelessly against the dick I could feel hardening against my crack.

Jim's hand molded over my erection, then went lower to cup my balls. "I want to fuck you, Blair. I want to be buried so deep inside you that when we're done you'll feel me with every step you take."

"Yes," I whimpered. How was it he could draw such sounds from me so effortlessly? No one else had ever had that ability.

"Have we got enough time?"

"If you do it fast and rough, we should have a couple of minutes to spare." My hands were already at my fly, undoing the button and yanking down the zipper. I shoved my pants and undershorts down to my ankles and spread my legs as far as the constricting material would allow. What could I lean on? The bed was too far, the chair was too... Fuck it, I bent over and braced my hands on my knees. "You ready, hot shot?"

Jim groaned. "God, you've got a sweet ass, Blair." A glance showed me that he'd got the jar of Vaseline. He freed his dick and lubricated it. A drop of pre come clung to the tip, and I licked my lips again, wanting to taste him. He gripped his shaft and came up behind me, and I dropped my head. The heat of his dick was scorching as he rubbed in up and down my crack, teasing my hole.

"Jim!"

He finally gave me what I wanted, shoving in with one smooth thrust. His arm was around my waist, holding me snugly in place, and he began a fast, rhythmic pounding. "No mercy, Chief."

"No. No mercy. Fuck me!"

I couldn't masturbate myself. At the rate Jim was driving his dick in and out of my ass, if I removed a hand from a knee, he'd send us both sprawling across the floor.

He worried my earlobe with his teeth, dragged his tongue over it, and then slid his tongue into my ear. He pulled back just enough to growl in my ear, "I can smell how close you are to coming, Blair." He wrapped a hand slick with Vaseline around my dick and began jerking me off. "I can feel how close you are!"

He moved his other hand from my waist to my chest, pushing aside the open halves of my shirt, and his fingers grew busy toying with my nipples, first one, then the other, pinching, squeezing, scraping his thumbnail over them, and I gasped and began to shake, shooting gout after gout of come into his hand.

"Yes!" Jim's arm dropped to my waist and pulled me even more firmly against his groin, and I could feel the heat of his semen as he spilled himself into my back passage.

We were both panting heavily as aftershocks rippled through us. Jim licked and nuzzled the side of my neck, his breath a warm wash over the moist path his tongue had left.

"Are you serious about leaving here, babe?" His voice was muffled in my ear. He was softening. Carefully he disengaged us, and I shivered again from the sensation.

I straightened with a groan. "I'm serious, Jim."

He stood there, completely dressed, only his dick exposed. He'd taken me like that. A flash of heat went through me at the thought of how we must have looked as he thoroughly ravaged me.

He lapped at the come in his palm, as fastidious as a cat, smiling at the almost inaudible sound I made.

A trickle of come ran down the inside of my thigh. Jim handed me a handkerchief, and when I was done with it, he took it back and wiped himself off.

"Then how about moving in with me until you find another job?"

"And when I find another job?"

"Stay with me." The words were casual.

"For how long, Jim?" I didn't want to get all girl-y on him, but I needed to know if he saw what we had together in the same light.

He tucked himself away, did up his trousers, then pulled mine up, leaving them unzipped as he buttoned my shirt. "I'd like to try it for a week."

"A week?"

His head was down as he concentrated on tucking my shirt into my pants and zipping my fly. "For starters. From there we can go on to a year, two years, three years, the rest of our lives..."

I caught his chin in my fingers and raised his head. Oh, that smile. "You were teasing me? You..."

He kissed whatever I was going to say off my lips. I sighed into his mouth, looped my arms around his neck, and leaned my weight against him. His hand was possessive on the curve of my ass.

I pulled away reluctantly. "Simon is going to be waiting."

"We've got a couple of minutes to spare, Chief, but you're right, we'd better get going."

We left my room, and I led the way to Simon's office.

"Jim. What's the military going to think?"

"I can get a place off-base. As long as we're discreet, there shouldn't be a problem."

"Okay." I could hope. Maybe there would come a day when we'd be able to live together as lovers openly.

****

We walked into Simon's office, and he looked at his watch and shook his head, grinning around his cigar. "Right on time!"

"Of course. Was there any reason why we wouldn't be?" I asked innocuously.

"Blair, you've got whisker burn and a love bite on your neck, and I don't need to be one of your sentinels to be able to see it's recent."

I couldn't prevent myself from reaching up to touch the spot where Jim had bit me. It stung slightly. Jim gave me one of those smiles and buttoned the collar of my shirt, then pulled it up until it covered my neck to my chin and gazed at Simon.

"Don't you think we have more pressing matters than the state of Blair's neck?" His tone was cool, and I remembered reading about the protective qualities of a sentinel, especially toward his guide, the man or woman who helped him control his senses. Could I be Jim's guide? I temporarily lost track of the conversation, the smile on my face most likely fatuous.

With an effort, I brought my attention back to the present.

"Simon, you'll have your men keep watch on the greenhouse? Both doors, two hour shifts?"

"They've been doing that, Jim, but with the way that wind is blowing, it must be like seventy-five below out there. They can't last more than twenty minutes."

My lover was about to respond to that when,

"Jim!"

We all looked toward the door.

"Ken."

"Bob said you were looking for me." A flush ran from his chin to his hairline. "I was just... uh... just catching some zzz's, Cap."

"Where's Eddie?"

"Right here, Cap. I was catching some zzz's too."

"Right." It was obvious that Jim didn't believe him. I wondered what his senses were picking up. "Get back to the radio room and see what you can do about boosting the power. We're having no luck getting messages out, and what's coming in from General Fogarty may suit Carrington, but it doesn't make me happy."

"I'm already there." Dykes vanished from the doorway.

Ken looked after him, and I would have sworn the expression on his face was infatuated.

Joel poked his head in. "Jim, I just remembered. Our flight suits are still in the mess hall. And they're damp."

He sighed. "Okay, let's go get 'em and bring them to our quarters. We'll spread them out and hope they dry soon."

"Jim, I'm pulling my men in. There will just be the interior guard."

"Okay, that makes sense." Jim rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. "Thanks, Simon."

"Then I think I'll go see if Dr. Stern needs more blood. He isn't one of those bigots who thinks a black man's blood isn't as red as a white man's. I'll see you later."

"Right."

Simon headed toward the corridor that led to the greenhouse. I watched him stride off, then turned back to my lover.

"Mind if I go with you, Jim?"

"Not at all, Chief. I'd kind of like to keep you close. If you don't mind?" We began walking toward the mess hall. Taggart and Erickson were already a few yards ahead of us.

"Are you kidding? If we didn't have all this trouble with our Man from Mars, I'd ... uh..." I glanced at his men, but they were preoccupied, talking about the move of the Chicago White Sox spring training camp from Pasadena to Palm Springs, in California. The West Coast didn't have any major league ball clubs, but maybe one day one of the teams would wise up and make the move.

"You were saying, Chief?"

"Huh? Oh." I smiled to myself. "I'd lure you to my room, lock you in with me, and keep you there all night."

"Just all night, Chief?"

"Jim, we're in the Arctic. The nights are six months long!"

"Well, that makes another thing the Arctic has going for it!"

"'Another' thing?"

"It's got you here, Chief."

I nearly tripped over my feet. That was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to me.

****

We picked up the damp flight suits and were heading for Jim's quarters. "Getting a little untidy there, aren't we, Chief?"

"I don't follow you, Jim." I was piecing something together in my mind, and I had no idea what he was talking about.

He nodded toward my waist, and I looked down, expecting to see I'd forgotten to do up my fly. Instead, my shirt tail was hanging out. I shrugged. "It's a little stiff to wear next to my skin," I obfuscated, making a point of meeting his eyes and keeping my breathing normal. I had no intention of telling him what was hidden by my shirt. "You know how that can be." I gave him my most charming smile, flirted with my eyelashes, and stroked my fingertip over his chest.

Jim's eyes grew hot. He tugged a curl loose from its tie and brought it to his face. He seemed to accept my explanation as reasonable. I blew out a surreptitious breath.

Footsteps came pounding up from behind us, fast. My lover appeared unconcerned, but it still took a conscious act for me to not quite jump out of my skin before I saw that it was Connor who hurried on by.

"Hold on a tic, Taggart."

"What, Connor? Afraid of the boogey man?"

"Not a chance, mate. I used to be married to him." She adjusted her camera over her shoulder, ignoring his stunned expression. "I want an interview with the man who worked UXB in London for six months after the war."

"UXB, Jim?" I whispered.

"Unexploded bomb, Chief. Joel was part of an elite bomb squad, for six months, as Connor said."

"C'mon, Taggart, tell. What happened?" she pressed.

He glared at her, then stalked into the quarters the fliers had been assigned.

"I will get the story from him, y'know."

"Let it be, Connor."

She looked Jim over with interest. I wanted to shove her away from my lover, but she was a reporter, and if she learned how things stood between Jim and me and made a story out of it, it could cost him his commission.

Jim's return look was detached, and after a minute, Connor gave a small laugh, hunched a shoulder, and went after Taggart.

"I hope she doesn't push it. Joel doesn't like talking about that time. He lost his partner, a woman he was coming to care for. I flew over to England, pulled him out of the whiskey bottle he'd climbed into, and got him back as my copilot."

Jim followed the other two into the room. I stood in the doorway watching him. What a great guy I had chosen to fall in love with.

"Hey, Jim, Bob and Danny found some coat trees! We can hang our flight gear over them. They'll dry much better that way." Erickson was suiting action to words.

MacAuliff and Barnes were sitting side by side on one of the cots. Jim studied Erickson, but if he was searching for signs of jealousy, he didn't seem to find them. "Sounds good to me."

Erickson went to the cot. "Shove over, you two." He sat so that Barnes was in the middle, like a piece of bologna in a sandwich.

The expression on Jim's face suddenly became that of a man who had found the light switch. And then it hit me too. The couple had become a threesome. I swallowed a laugh.

Jim arched his brow at me. "Come on, Chief, get a move on! Let's get that suit dried out!" He draped his flight suit over one of the coat trees. "Y'know, something's been nagging at me, and I just realized what it was."

"You gonna enlighten us, Cap?"

"Remember I said that Thing's arm was caught in the door when we tried to slam it shut?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"It was the arm the dogs had torn off."

"Are you sure?" "I never heard of anything like that!" "Oh, my god!" "That's impossible!"

"Not impossible. Not if it's a vegetable," I asserted. "And y'know, Jim, now that I think of it, that's got to be why you didn't know it was right there, behind the greenhouse door. Vegetables don't have much of an odor unless they're rotting. They don't breathe, not as we do. There's no heartbeat either. If it was just standing there, waiting, there would be no way for you to know that."

"That's great, that's just peachy-keen!" Taggart took an impatient turn around the room. "Okay, fine. It's a vegetable. What do we do with a vegetable?"

"Bake it." It was Connor who came up with the answer. She met each man's eyes and shrugged. "That's what my old mum used to do with veggies. Bake it, boil it, stew it, fry it."

"Yeah," Jim said. He was staring at the can that held the kerosene that fueled the stove in the center of the room. "Yeah."

Taggart saw where his eyes were and enlightenment dawned on his dark face. "I'm pretty sure I saw a flare gun in the footlocker by my bunk. We can use it to ignite the fuel. This way we don't need to get too close to those knives that Thing calls fingers." He went into the other room and flicked on the light switch. We could hear him rummaging around. "Got it!"

MacAuliff and Erickson bounced to their feet and went to the lockers at the foot of their cots. "Us, too!" They displayed the flare guns they found triumphantly.

"We'll need cans, Jim. We can fill them with kerosene and douse that Thing from different angles."

"Here's one!" Barnes pulled it from under one of the cots. The walk to the lavatory could be long and cold in the middle of the night.

"Okay, now let's make sure everyone else is aware of what we're planning. We don't know where it's going to strike or how much time we've got, so let's get moving, people!"

****

"Jim, we left the axes in the mess hall. I'll go back and get 'em."

"Thanks, Joel."

"We'll need some extra fire extinguishers, too. The last thing we need is the fire getting out of control." I walked toward the door.

"Okay, Chief."

The tone of Jim's voice had me glancing back over my shoulder just as he smiled at me, and I barely missed walking into the doorframe. "Uh... be right back."

I headed for a storeroom where I knew the spare fire extinguishers were kept.

"Sandburg."

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

Taggart gestured for me to keep going, and he fell into step beside me.

"I've been watching you and Jim."

"Oh?" I made my face blank. Was he going to warn me off, tell me to keep away from his captain? Was he going to try to beat the shit out of me because I was homosexual?

"I want you to know that Jim Ellison is more than just my captain; he's also my friend. He's not only saved my life, he's also pulled my bacon out of the fire more times than I want to think about."

"Yes?" Where was this leading to?

"I saw how miserable Jim was with his ex-wife. I don't like the idea of him fucking another man... He is fucking you, isn't he? I mean, the thought of you fucking him... Don't tell me, please."

"Does it matter that much?" He looked miserable, and I sighed. "Jim fucks me."

"I knew it. Jim would never..."

"Lieutenant Taggart, did you have a reason for wanting to discuss my love life?"

"Oh, sorry. What I started to say was that I haven't seen Jim this happy in a very long time. So, if it makes him happy to fuck another guy... uh... Well, I guess it's okay."

"Thank you so much." My sarcasm went right over his head.

"But you see, if you're going to be... um... involved with Jim, there's something I want you to be aware of."

"You're making me nervous, Lieutenant. Does he have a social disease? Does he turn into a wolf under a full moon? Is he a card-carrying Communist?"

Taggart considered the last so ridiculously ludicrous he ignored it completely.

"Okay, here it is. Sometimes Jim will... act a little strange. He'll stand there staring off into space, like he's lost in some kind of trance or something."

"I understand."

"You do?" He scratched his hand. "I'll be damned if I do!"

I did understand. Sir Richard Burton had mentioned that sometimes a sentinel's senses would overload, and he would lose all track of the here and now. "Do you mind if I ask why you're telling me this?"

"When this Thing comes in, Jim's gonna go after it swinging. If he trances, he'll be dead." He offered me the flare gun he'd brought from the other room. "I don't want him dead. You'll see to it."

I took the flare gun, then raised my shirt tail out of the way, revealing one of Lee's spare cleavers. "I'll see to it. I won't let him trance, and I won't let that Thing hurt him. Now go get the axes."

****

We were as ready as we were going to be.

"You sure you can use that thing?" Erickson asked Barnes.

Barnes had one of the flare guns. He licked his thumb, ran it over the sights and peered over it, and attempted a grin. "I've seen Gary Cooper in Sergeant York."

Erickson was fidgeting with the can of kerosene he held. "Is Eddie gonna be okay in the radio room?"

"There're no windows and only the one door. Tex said they'd be fine."

"Is he sure?" MacAuliff was fidgeting as well.

Jim frowned at him. "What's with you two all of a sudden?"

MacAuliff opened his mouth to answer.

Tick. Tick.

His mouth snapped shut, and we all turned to stare at his Geiger counter, which had flickered to life.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

"Okay." Had Jim's mouth gone as dry as mine? "Show time. Connor..."

She held up her camera. "I know enough to stay out of a firefight, Ellison, but I will get a picture."

"Blair..."

I had been notifying everyone via the intercomm that our guest was loose and roaming the station. "I'll stay out of the way, but I won't huddle in a corner, Jim."

Ticktickticktickticktick.

"I don't want you hurt." He was gripping an axe in his hands.

"I could say the same thing, John Wayne. Can you hear anything?"

He paused, concentrating, and swallowed. "Footsteps, Chief. They don't sound human."

The breath I drew in didn't steady me as much as I'd hoped. I licked my lips and nodded.

"The Geiger counter's reached the top, Cap!"

"Kill the lights, Chief."

I had no sooner pressed the switch then the door to the adjoining room burst open.

The Thing stood in the doorway, backlit by the light Taggart had left on. Its head swung from left to right, as if it was locating each of us. I was thankful I couldn't see its eyes.

Its hands with those fingers like knives clenched, and I shivered and raised the flare gun I had as the Thing stepped clear of the door.

Two steps, three steps into the room, and Erickson threw the first barrage of the flammable liquid. The Thing shook its head furiously and let out that sound Barnes and Jim had both described.

MacAuliff's aim was as good, and more kerosene drenched the Thing.

Barnes extended his arm, and the muzzle of the flare gun flashed light as the first cartridge was discharged. It struck the Thing, igniting the kerosene and bursting into flames.

The sound it made changed to a bellow that was filled with thwarted fury, and it swung blindly. Barnes threw himself out of the way just in time, falling backward over one of the cots, letting out a small cry of pain, distracting Erickson.

I took aim, but Connor was standing in the way, her camera before her face. The Thing took a step toward her.

"NOOOO!" Taggart howled. He leaped forward, swinging his axe with deadly intent.

"Back off! Give me a shot! Give me a shot!"

The Thing caught him across the chest with a blow from its arm, and Taggart went flying across the room, his shirt starting to smolder.

MacAuliff was the only one throwing kerosene on the Thing now. The fire blazed, but that didn't stop it. And it was heading for Jim. Its arms were outstretched, the fingers slightly curved, ready to slice my lover to ribbons.

My concentration zeroed in on my lover and the adversary who was stalking him, and I shut out everyone else in the room. I took a step forward and to the side, raised the flare gun, and fired straight at those hate-filled eyes.

The sound it made was like nothing I'd ever heard before, a shriek, a bellow, a scream. It clutched at its face, whirled and ran for the door. I grinned and pulled the cleaver from my belt. It was going to smash into the door and knock itself stupid, and then I was going to chop it into Man from Mars crudites.

Only the door gave way before it, and it escaped into the storm.

****

Part 15

Jim and I rushed to the door, which lay canted at an angle on the snow previous, milder storms had deposited. Wind and snow swirled, blowing into our faces, making it difficult to breathe and almost impossible to see.

"Look at this!" Jim shouted to be heard above the wind. He touched first the hinges that should have kept the door in place, and then the lock, taking care not to cut his fingers on the razor-sharp edges.

The hinges and the bolt were sliced clear through. I felt sick.

"You mean it was planning an escape route?" Taggart demanded hoarsely. He staggered to his feet "It's a fucking vegetable! How is that possible?"

"That vegetable built a space ship and managed to cross the millions of miles of space between Mars and Earth."

"Give me a hand with this, Chief," Jim grunted, and we angled the door into the room, then struggled against the wind to get it propped in place. "Someone get the lights!"

Connor flipped the light switch, and we got a look at the destruction. "Fuck a duck."

"Well, we've learned one thing, that fire can hurt it."

"But not much, judging by the way it took off. And it's cost us. Just look at this!"

The condition of the room was depressing. Soot and smoke and the reek of kerosene pressed down on us like a weight. The crackle of flames was a low counterpoint to the sound of the wind whistling in around the edges of the door.

MacAuliff was making little headway with his fire extinguisher. There was too much kerosene over every surface. I grabbed an extinguisher and went to work helping him put out the numerous small blazes.

Taggart growled in frustration. "Get your picture, Connor?"

The reporter was beside him with a blanket, patting out his smoldering shirt. "You put yourself between me and that Thing, Joel. Thank you." Her words were matter-of-fact, but I detected a faint quiver in her voice. She coughed. "Damn smoke. You hot shots were all in the way. The one clear chance I had to get a picture of that Thing was just before I tripped and went ass over teakettle over the cot. I probably wound up with a picture of the ceiling and my feet."

The door from the corridor burst open, and Dr. Chapman, Simon, and Redding and Stone, a couple of his security men, came running in.

"Everyone in one piece?" Simon questioned around the cigar between his lips.

There was a moan from the other end of the room.

"Dr. Chapman, help me, please!" Erickson had an arm around Barnes' waist and was supporting him to his feet. Barnes' right arm hung limply. "Danny's arm is broken!"

"I'm okay." Barnes was talking to MacAuliff. He tried to smile, but it was more like a grimace. "What gets me mad is that Thing didn't do it; I busted it falling over the bunk!"

"Get him to sick bay, Lieutenant Erickson. My wife has been preparing for injuries, she'll see to his arm."

Erickson and MacAuliff exchanged glances but said nothing.

"Lieutenant Taggart, are you badly burned?"

"No, Dr. Chapman. First degree burns mostly, I think. My chest hair is singed a bit, but the worst casualty is my shirt; it's gonna need a decent burial. I liked this shirt," he mourned.

"Go down to sick bay too, please. Esther has some salve that will soothe that burn, and she should have something you can wear, as well."

"C'mon, mate. I'll give you a hand." Connor slid an arm around Taggart's waist.

"I'm hurt worse than I think, aren't I?"

"Why d'ya say that, Joel?"

"You're being nice to me. The only reason I can see you being nice to me is because I'm dying."

Connor pulled away from him. "You're an asshole, Taggart." She bent and caught up the strap of her camera and stalked out of the room.

Nobody said a word.

"Me and my big mouth." Taggart stared after her, something like regret on his face. He sighed and followed Erickson and Barnes out of the room.

The fat-bellied stove had been knocked over, a stream of kerosene meandering away from where it lay, almost as if it was drawn toward a tiny flame. I splashed a stream of CO2 from the extinguisher across its path, halting further destruction.

Simon and his two men split up and were examining the room. Bedding was charred. Black streaks ran up the walls.

Jim started to sway. The smell of burning kerosene, blankets, wood, was getting to him.

Fortunately there was too much going on for anyone to pay any attention to us. I dropped the extinguisher and was at his side immediately. "Listen to my voice, Jim. Dial your senses down." I stroked his arm and continued to speak softly, and finally he focused on me.

"I'm better, Chief. Thanks." His cheeks were still a little pale, and I remained beside him.

"Redding," Simon barked, "check the other room."

"Gotcha, Simon." In a matter of minutes he came back out, looking anxious. "There's a hole in the wall that butts on the same corridor that leads to the greenhouse. The wood was cut through, then put back in place like a piece from a jigsaw puzzle."

"How did you spot it?"

"Sawdust. It's all over the floor."

"How could that be possible?" Simon growled.

"Take a look at the hinges of this door, Simon. Sliced through like they were made of paper. Dr. Stern told me the bolt to the greenhouse door was in the same condition."

"Let me see that!" Simon's mouth was a grim line. It became grimmer as he studied the door. "Goddamn!"

"I want all of us out of here now."

"Just a second. I had two men keeping guard in that corridor!" Simon went to the intercomm. "Raleigh. Winston. Report immediately."

The intercomm sat mute.

Jim turned to Simon, who was looking more disturbed with each passing second that brought no response. "I'm sorry, Captain Banks."

Simon scrubbed his face. "Jesus. Can this get any worse?"

"Look, this room is a total wash. I want access blocked off," Jim ordered.

"What's the point?" one of the men groused. "It can cut right through the walls!"

"So you want to make it easier for that Thing to get in, Stone?" Simon waited to see if there were any further comments. Redding opened his mouth, then shut it. Stone sulked but said nothing more. They knew better than to challenge the head of security when he spoke in that tone. "All right, I want two by fours to seal off that hole in the wall in the other room. I want fifty gallon drums, crates, whatever you can find to make exiting by this door difficult! Now move it!"

The men moved it.

Simon pulled the cigar from his mouth. "I have to check on Raleigh and Winston."

"Simon..."

"They're my men! I have to know..." His mouth twisted, and he strode out.

"Bob, see if any of our gear survived, then get out of here. I'm going after Banks." Jim was gone before I could tell him to be careful.

"Uh... Dr. Sandburg, would you mind taking these?" MacAuliff had gathered up jackets and caps. "The flight suits have all sustained damage; they're useless." He shifted from one foot to the other. "I'm worried about Eddie. Eddie Dykes, our radio man. The radio room isn't that far from here. He'd be an easy target for that Thing. And Tex, too."

"You may have a point, Sergeant. Why don't you go see how Lieutenant Dykes is holding up? And Tex, too." I took the jackets from him.

He gave a huff of laughter and started toward the door. "Thanks, Dr. Sandburg."

There was something...

"Just a second."

He paused in the doorway. "Yes?"

"Your breath!"

His hand flew up to cover his mouth, and his cheeks turned red. "I'm sorry. I... uh... Geez, Doc, you know what come-breath can be like!"

My jaw dropped. MacAuliff had sucked someone off? For half a second I was distracted, wondering if it had been Erickson or Barnes, and then I licked my lips, wondering what Jim would taste like.

I'd make for damn sure I found out later.

"Doc?"

I snapped my mouth shut and glowered at the crew chief. "No, you dope! Look!" I blew a breath into the air. It was a white plume.

"Yeah, so?" His puzzlement only lasted a few seconds. "Oh, shit, no!"

"Oh, shit, yes. The heat's off. I've got to find Jim."

"I've got to get Eddie!" He grabbed two of the flight jackets from me and headed for the radio room.

I raced down the corridor that led to the greenhouse, slowing as I got closer to the junction. Simon and Jim were standing there, tension in every line of their bodies. The guards...

There was a trail of blood starting in the middle of the corridor and apparently stopping at the door to the greenhouse. Odds were too good it continued past the door.

"Raleigh and Winston?" I asked through dry lips.

Simon shook his head, pinched the bridge of his nose, pressed his fingers over his eyes. "This is all I found."

"Dammit." I knew the men vaguely. They did their jobs, kept to themselves, and didn't bother the Eskimo women. Simon would give them occasional weekend passes to fly down to Anchorage when they felt the need for a woman. Simon knew them better than I, and he would grieve for the loss of life, but... "I've got bad news."

"Worse than the fact we've lost two more men to that Thing?"

"I'm sorry, Simon, but yeah. The..."

"Jim! Jim!" Erickson came running down the corridor, skidding in the blood as he tried to come to a halt. "The heat's off in sick bay."

Simon's head whipped around, and he pinned me with a questioning gaze. "Talk to me, Sandburg!"

"The heat's off period."

"Goddammit!" He flung down his cigar. "Can't we catch a break at all? What are the chances the fucking pipes would choose now to freeze?"

"You couldn't have run out of fuel?" Jim asked.

"No. We had an oil drop last week. Dammit. I'll have to send someone outside to check the pipeline..."

"And they'll run right into Plug Ugly."

Simon's eyes widened, then narrowed. "Of course, that makes perfect sense. I send some poor schnook out there, and that Thing has more food for its babies." He shivered.

"How long will these walls retain heat?"

"Not long enough." I nodded toward a thermometer on the wall. "It's about 40 degrees now. In a matter of minutes it will be down to 20. From there..." I started to shrug, but it turned into a massive shudder.

Jim took the flight jackets from my arms and dropped them on a nearby stack of crates. I looked down at them stupidly; I hadn't even realized I still carried them. He picked one up and put it around my shoulders.

"Mine, Chief." The jacket? Me? Either way he was correct. I slid my arms into the sleeves, liking the fact that it was my lover's jacket that would be keeping me warm. "What about you, Jim."

"I'm naturally hot-blooded." His mouth quirked in a grin.

"I'll go back to my room and get my parka."

"Don't be too long." His hands were on the collar, and he gave me a little shake. "I'll worry."

I leaned toward him, my eyes on his mouth. His lips parted, and I could feel the warmth of his breath wash over my face. I touched my tongue to my lips, wishing they were his lips, and raised my eyes to his. They burned hot.

"Where's Bob?" Erickson grabbed his jacket, interrupting the moment.

"He went to check on Lieutenant Dykes." I stepped back. "Later," I murmured so only Jim would hear me.

"Yes." His assent was as soft, but I could read it on his lips.

Erickson zipped his jacket, edgy with nerves. "I'm going to bring them both back here, okay? And... uh... Tex, too."

"Fine, Ken." Jim spoke absently, his focus on the surrounding corridors. "Is there any other heat source available, Simon?"

"Yeah. Some of the equipment needs to be run by electricity. And the only place where that Thing won't be able to cut off the supply is the generator room."

"We'd better get everyone there. Babe, get going and meet me there, okay?"

Simon didn't appear to notice the endearment, not that I would have much cared at that point. The probability of death hung too closely over us.

I left my lover and the head of security with their heads together, making plans.

****

There was always a background of noise in any polar camp: pipes rattling as oil was fed through them to the furnaces that heated the station; machinery humming; people talking, arguing, walking from personal quarters to mess hall to lab; the movement of the air as they went about their daily business. The subtle and not-so-subtle sounds of everyday life, so familiar they became unnoticeable, but always there.

Until suddenly they weren't.

Now there was silence, as if even the air cowered from what we had to face.

I'd been in too much of a rush to get to my room, other things on my mind, but now my nerves had become jittery. I peered into shadows, afraid, more afraid than I had ever been in my life, of what might be lurking in them.

My parka was zipped to my chin. I wore fur-lined gloves, and I'd found an extra pair that I hoped would fit Jim. Under my arm I carried his flight jacket, and I hurried.

The temperature seemed to have dropped even more, and I was concerned about how his skin would react to the harsh chill.

I began to hear the sound of hammers echoing in the corridors, and I wondered what had been decided in my absence.

I came around the corner and jolted to a stop. MacAuliff was hugging Erickson and Dykes. "You two be careful, or I'll blister your asses!" he growled softly. "You know how much you mean to me!"

Dykes turned his face and caressed the shorter man's lips. "We know, Bob-o. You mean just as much to us. What about Barnes?"

"Danny's interested." I could hear the pleasure in MacAuliff's voice. "He's done a little experimenting, but nothing beyond hand- or blow-jobs. That's how he wound up here. His family got wind of it and had him shipped to the North Pole."

"We all know how that can be. But dammit, he's a sweet kid!"

"I think you're right. After this is all over, he's gonna want a change of scenery, and his busted wing gives him the perfect excuse. He said he'll come back with us."

MacAuliff pulled Dykes' face down for a deeper kiss, then reached for Erickson and repeated the action. His hands tightened on their necks, and their arms tightened around him and each other.

It seemed the couple that had become a threesome was actually a foursome!

"Be careful." It was raw begging.

"That's a promise!" "It works both ways, Bob!"

"Yeah. Now get going before Jim comes looking for us. I think he already suspects there's something between Ken, me, and Danny." MacAuliff released the two men, and stepped back.

"No one ever said the Cap wasn't sharp as a tack!"

I backed away silently, ran to the opposite end of the corridor, turned and walked back, whistling between my teeth.

"Hi, Dr. Sandburg." Erickson strode toward me, his step assured. His mouth was puffy.

"Lieutenant."

"Kisses sweeter than wine?"

"Huh?" What the hell was he talking about?

"That song you're whistling."

"Oh." My cheeks felt hot. "Uh... You're keeping watch down this corridor?"

"Yeah." He let it go. "Hopefully the Geiger counter will warn us before that Thing gets too close."

"You've got one?" I hadn't noticed before.

"Yeah. Captain Ellison made sure we all did. He's a good guy, the Cap." Erickson seemed to want to talk. "We've been with him since just after the War, you know. Best captain a guy could want."

"Yes. He seems very... um... competent."

"The thing is, he needs someone to make him happy. Even if it isn't who we originally thought would make him happy."

"Oh. Uh..." Was he giving me his blessing? "How do the other men feel about it?"

"We talked about it, and we're all in agreement. Our captain needs to settle down. See if you can talk him into someplace warm, where we don't have to wear fur-lined underwear. Although..." He gave himself a shake. "I'd better get moving. We flipped a coin. Eddie has the corridor that leads to the mess hall. We've got a bet going which way that Thing will come in."

"Oh, yeah? And what do you think?"

"I think it will get smart and go home. Nah, I'm just kidding." He grew serious. "I'm hoping it comes this way."

"Feeling gung ho, Lieutenant?"

"No. If you want the truth, I'm scared shitless. But Eddie's the youngest of our crew. If any of us has to face that Thing, I'd rather it was me." He looked uncomfortable. "And I'll be goddammed if I know why I just told you that."

Because you care so much about him, and you are worried, I could have said.

"Because you've been together since just after the war. Guarding someone's back, having someone guard yours, makes for a very strong bond of... friendship."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's right!" He relaxed, oblivious to my hesitation before the word 'friendship'. "Well, banzai, Doc." He gave a jaunty salute and proceeded on his way, whistling.

A lump formed in my throat when I recognized what he was whistling.

You'll Never Walk Alone.

****

As I approached the junction of the corridor, the banging of a hammer became louder, along with swearing as someone's finger was mashed.

"Hey, Doc." MacAuliff pulled his thumb out of his mouth and forced a smile; he was alone, and I assumed he had sent Dykes on his way to keep watch over the corridor that led to the mess hall. "Hold on a second. I'll walk back to the generator room with you as soon as I get this last fucking nail in."

"We've got to come up with some other way to destroy this Thing, otherwise we'll wind up burning the station down around our ears, and I hate to tell you this, Sergeant, but I think Plug Ugly deals better with the cold than we do."

"I think you're right, Doc. Captain Ellison and Captain Banks have something in mind."

"Something to do with this fencing wire you're nailing to the walls?"

"Yeah. Though I'll tell you, it beats hell out of me what all those rolls of cattle fencing were doing at a research station at the North Pole."

"You're in the military, Mac. Ever know the government to work in a logical manner?"

"You may be right, Doc." He grinned. "Anyway, the only way for the Thing to get to the generator room is..."

"Through this corridor or the one from the mess hall. I passed Lieutenant Erickson."

MacAuliff nodded again. "Eddie's keeping watch at the other one. As soon as the Geiger counters start clicking, we'll pull them back. We've got a special surprise for our guest." His eyes were cold. "See these lengths of fencing up on the ceiling? They're under the wooden walk as well. Wire's been spliced into the cable that runs to the generator." He pointed to where it was stapled to wooden supports.

"Our generator can crank out up to a thousand volts of electricity."

"Yeah. Either way Plug Ugly comes at us, we'll juice him. He's gonna get one helluva hotfoot, and that'll teach him to fuck with Earthlings! Okay, I'm done here. Let's go."

****

"Thanks, Chief!" Jim accepted the return of his flight jacket. Someone had loaned him a sweater, and it helped some, but even with his senses dialed way down I could see how the cold was affecting him. He slid his arms into the sleeves and zipped the jacket, and gradually the tremors that shook his body eased. I looked toward the generator room, torn between staying with my lover and making sure my friends were safe, at least for the moment. "Go on, Blair." Jim squeezed my arm, then gave me a small, encouraging push.

Except for Jim and his men, and of course, Megan Connor, everyone in the station was crammed into the generator room. The air was close, smelling of humanity. They were wearing all the outer gear they could get their hands on, and there was an ebb and flow of movement as they stamped their feet in place and tried to keep warm.

"Well, at least we'll be generating some body heat," someone joked feebly.

In a far corner, Mrs. Chapman was hovering over Dr. Stern, and she was looking extremely concerned. I went to join her.

"I don't like this, Blair." Her voice was very quiet. She was of the belief that just because a person wasn't conscious didn't mean he couldn't still hear what was going on around him. "Josef's temperature has spiked again."

"An infection?"

"A massive infection. I'm afraid it's become systemic. With the diagnostic tools available here, it's impossible for me to tell if it's viral or bacterial. If we can destroy this Thing, and if this storm lets up, and if we can get him back to civilization... "

"Too many 'ifs'."

"Yes. But the fact of the matter is he'll stand a much better chance in a hospital in the States."

"Hell."

"On the plus side, Carolyn Plummer's with us once more."

"What happened?" My lover's ex-wife was sitting up, plucking nervously at the blanket that was tucked around her. She was wearing that flashy ski jacket.

"What do you remember?"

"I went to talk to Jimmy. The light in the storeroom was out; it was so dark. Something struck at me..." She touched the bandage on her temple. "I don't remember anything else."

"You hit your head, and you've been unconscious."

"But... I don't understand. This doesn't look like sick bay. What are we doing in this room, with all these people?"

"The Thing that attacked you is out there, and we intend to stop it. This is the safest place for us."

"Thing? What thing?"

"'Thing' with a capital T, Miss Plummer. That's right, you've missed the latest developments with Super Carrot." She looked confused, and I tried to keep the tartness out of my voice. "Our interplanetary visitor." She still looked blank. "The Thing in the block of ice."

"But it was frozen!"

"Not any more."

"Where's Jimmy?"

Mrs. Chapman answered her. "Captain Ellison is organizing the men to fight off this Thing."

She was starting to sound quavery. "I want..."

I opened my mouth to snap she couldn't have Jim, he was mine, then shut it. She was hurt, and this was hardly the place for a confrontation.

Carolyn Plummer's eyes welled up with tears. "I want Sam," she said in a tiny voice.

Sam?

There was a hand on my shoulder. "Blair."

"Yes, Dr. Chapman?"

"If you'll come with me?"

I followed him out of the generator room to a small storeroom nearby where all the electrical equipment was kept. He handed me three pairs of rubber boots. "What...?"

"So they won't get a hotfoot."

"Shit. I didn't even think of that!" I dropped the boots and pulled on a pair that would fit over my size 8 1/2s.

"No, I imagine you've had a few other things on your mind. It wouldn't help if I asked you to remain in the generator room with the rest of us?"

"No." I started to walk out of the storeroom.

"Blair, about what's been going on; please don't hold this against Arthur." Dr. Chapman sighed when he saw the stubborn twist of my mouth. "He isn't thinking clearly. I'm a scientist, and even I can't fathom his thought-processes sometimes. And yes, I know you're a scientist too, but I have more years under my belt than you do!"

"So we're supposed to let this go by because he doesn't think like normal people?"

"You know how little sleep he can get by on. He's had even less this past week." He could tell from my expression that I wasn't about to relent. Abruptly he changed the subject. "Simon's told me that when this is over you'll be leaving."

"Yes. I would have told you myself, but..."

"But you had other things on your mind," he repeated.

"Jim. Captain Ellison." I could feel my cheeks flush, and he gave a rueful smile.

"Esther and I could both see there was something there. We knew it would happen someday. We're happy for you, Blair."

"Then you don't mind that I'll be leaving here?"

"We'll miss you, son, but we've suspected for some time now that this wasn't the place for you, not in the long run. Here now, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Something in my eye, is all." I had never been called 'son.' Not even by Naomi. "I'm sorry, Dr. Chapman. I just ... I'm sorry..." I suddenly found myself wrapped in a bear-hug.

His big hands rubbed my back comfortingly. "It's all right."

"Am I interrupting something?" Jim stood in the doorway, and I didn't need to have sentinel senses in order to tell something was seriously disturbing him.

"Jim, what's wrong?" I was out of Dr. Chapman's paternal embrace and across the room to my lover without a second thought. Jim reached out as if to touch my face, then bunched his fingers and dropped his hand to his side. His expression was fierce, and I felt the need to hold him.

Dr. Chapman laughed softly. "Blair." I stopped and looked back at him. He came to us, took my hand, took Jim's, and placed them palm to palm. "Take care of each other." He stooped and picked up the boots. "Be happy."

We were alone in the storeroom. "He just gave us his blessing!" Jim was looking pole-axed.

"Yes, I think he did." And I took the moment to pull Jim's mouth down to mine and kiss him thoroughly.

****

"So, tell me what you think you're doing, Chief."

Disheveled curls had spilled around my face. "Hmmm? Tying my hair out of the way." Jim's restless fingers had freed it from the tie that usually kept it confined at the base of my neck.

He ran his thumb over my lower lip, teasing it open, and I touched it with the tip of my tongue. "The boots, Chief."

"Oh. They're to prevent electrocution. Dr. Chapman's brought a few other pairs for whoever's going to be out in the corridor. Here's a pair for you."

"Thanks. I understand about preventing electrocution. What I meant was why are you wearing the boots?"

"I'm going to be out there... Don't you shake your head at me, tough guy! I will, too, be out there! Who else will know to watch your back?"

"I don't want you in danger, Chief. If that Thing gets past us..."

"Listen to me very, very carefully, because I do not intend to repeat myself. If that Thing gets past you it's because you'll be dead."

"You'll be safer in the generator room, Blair."

"Nowhere in the station is safe with that Thing running loose. D'you think I want to live without you? I'll be damned if I die in a matchbox of a room instead of at your side. Now shut up, kiss me once more, and let's go show this Thing what happens when you fuck with humans."

****

Part 16

Jim's men were all wearing rubber boots. So was Connor. "I'm getting a picture if it's the last thing I do."

From the tight expression on her face, I could see she believed that it could very well be her last act on Earth.

"Any word back from Ken and Eddie?"

"Just that they're freezing," MacAuliff said. He had a walkie-talkie on a crate next to him, and he glared at it as if he could will it to come to life. His hands were stuffed under his arm pits, and he stamped his feet. "Otherwise, nothing."

"Keep in contact. I'll leave it to your judgment how often you want to radio them."

"About every twenty seconds sounds good to me."

Jim gave a soft laugh, his breath a white cloud on the air. "I want to check with Captain Banks and his crew in the generator room."

"Just a second, Jim. I may have an idea."

"Yeah, Bob?"

"We need that Thing to be at the junction before we can throw the switch and juice it. If it has time to think about it, it's smart enough to realize we're up to something. But if it sees us waiting for it, if we're a couple of yards before the junction, maybe we can get it so hot and bothered it'll just come a-runnin'?"

"I think you're right, Bob. Okay, we'll wait there for it. And kill some of the lights, would you? That bulb down there, that one, those there and there. The less visibility it has..."

"Good idea, Jim. Joel, give me a hand, okay, big guy?"

"Want some help? Never mind, of course you don't." Connor's lips were a thin line. "Captain Ellison, what can I do..."

"Yeah, Connor. That would be swell. Thanks." Taggart's cheeks darkened under the barely discernible flush, and Connor's jaw dropped.

I wondered who was the most surprised at those words, she or Taggart.

Taggart cleared his throat brusquely. "We need all the help we can get." He strode to the far end of the corridor and in a no-nonsense manner reached up to loosen a light bulb, swearing mildly when he singed his fingers.

She closed her mouth. "Glad to be of some assistance, mate." She put her camera down, stripped off her gloves, and tucked them into a side pocket of her flight jacket.

One of the walkie-talkies chittered to life. "Bob-o?"

He bolted back for the instrument. "Yeah, Eddie. Talk to me!"

"Just wanted to make sure you were still there."

"I'm here, babe."

"Okay."

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah. My fingers are frozen, though. It's quiet." A beat of silence, then, "Uh, Bob..."

"Yeah, Eddie?" There was relieved indulgence in his voice.

"I just realized... The door to the mess hall opens in."

"Yeah, so? Oh, son of a bitch!"

"What?" Too many things to take into account. I couldn't think straight.

"Chief, if it comes that way, all that Thing will have to do is pull the door open."

"Shit!"

"Don't do anything till I get back!" MacAuliff made a dash for the generator room.

"What am I missing?"

"Connor, the door is barricaded as if it needs to be pushed open."

"This is a scientific research facility! The sum total of IQ levels is incalculable! What stupid fuck of an idiot made a fucking stupid error like that?"

"You do have a way with words, Connor." Taggart was regarding her with awe.

"Thanks, mate." She gave him a distracted grin.

Jim was looking grim. "Professor Laurenz was in charge of securing that door."

And his nose was so deep in the crack of Carrington's ass... I was tempted to say as much, but refrained out of common courtesy to the brown-nosers of the world.

"Chief, would you go see how everyone is holding up?" He gestured toward the generator room. "We need to take care of this. I'll be with you as soon as I can."

"Sure, Jim. Here." I handed him a screwdriver that had been left lying on a crate. "Don't take long."

The crew chief came trotting back, holding a drill. "No sense making this more difficult then it has to be."

Jim picked up the walkie-talkie. "Eddie? Listen, we've got to re-hang that door. We'll be right there."

I watched until they turned the corner, then walked back to the generator room and paused in the doorway.

"Captain Ellison is overreacting!" Dr. Carrington snarled. I'd never seen him wound so tightly. His hands were jammed deep in the pockets of his coat, but it was plain to see they were fisted. "If I could just attempt communicating with our visitor!"

"You think the fact that it attacked our people doesn't prove it's dangerous?"

"Of course it would react defensively, Hugo," he sneered. "Shot at by a frightened man, attacked by vicious dogs!"

"And what was its excuse for killing four men?" Dr. Chapman's rigid body language bespoke contained anger.

"Essential imperative." Carrington brushed aside the other man's wrath as inconsequential. "Survival of its species, plain and simple." He heard the sound I made and turned to face me.

"What about the survival of our species, Dr. Carrington? Are we chopped liver, just because we haven't journeyed into space yet?"

"But don't you see? We could have it within our grasp! Imagine all the secrets we could learn from this being!" Hectic color was in his cheeks. His eyes took on a faraway expression, and I wondered what impossible utopian vista he was seeing. "All that knowledge and wisdom! I must speak with Captain Ellison again! He must be persuaded..."

"I must be persuaded what, Doctor?" Jim stood in the doorway. He saw my anxious expression and gave a nod to let me know the door had been successfully re-hung.

"We can't cast aside this opportunity to communicate with a being that is so much wiser than we are! Future generations will never forgive us for having this opportunity and denying it!"

"Have you stopped to think that if that Thing gets out of here, there may not be any future generations to forgive us? Can you guarantee the safety of mankind, Dr. Carrington?"

"Bah! You're talking nonsense, Dr. Sandburg! Were our ancestors, those poor, pathetic creatures who crawled from the muck of the antediluvian mire to huddle in caves and tremble in fear of the beast that dwelled by night, guaranteed anything? I think not." He paused to glare at us, then bit off, "There is never a guarantee of safety."

"It seems to me we've been doing fairly well on our own, Arthur," Dr. Chapman asserted, deceptively mild.

He waved away mankind's abilities as immaterial. "Oh, I'll grant you we've done a tolerable job of deciphering the mysteries of our world..."

"Yeah," Jim said dryly. "After all, we've managed to split the atom all on our own."

"And look how much better off mankind is for that!" Connor muttered, and I remembered that some of her most effective reporting had been of the aftermath of the atomic bombs dropped on Nagasaki and Hiroshima.

Carrington ignored the aside and continued. "Think how much more we could learn from a being whose species has mastered space travel! If we could just open a dialogue with this being! Think of it!"

"I am, Doctor, and it's not making me feel good." Jim turned to us, dismissing him.

The scientist all but frothed at the mouth at his disregard and stalked to a corner, his fists once again clenching impotently in his pockets.

"All right, everyone listen up. Captain Banks and his men will remain here. They'll be armed with axes, cleavers, whatever they've found that will cut. Make sure you stay out of their way!"

They faced him grimly, knowing if the Thing got past Jim and his men, Simon's security team was the last line of defense.

Jim took Simon aside. "Remember, if that Thing makes it back to here, keep swinging at its arms."

Simon nodded, his teeth clamped down on his cigar. "Good luck, Captain. Blair." He pulled me into a hug. "Don't get yourself killed." He cleared this throat gruffly and let me go.

Before I could step away, Mrs. Chapman wrapped her arms around me. "Godspeed, sweetie."

Tex was the next one to wish me well. "Vaya con dios, amigo."

And then I found myself in my lover's arms. "I can't think of anything clever to say, babe," he whispered in my ear.

I held onto him. "Don't get dead, Jim."

"Yeah. I guess that about says it all." His hands framed my face, and he studied my features as if memorizing them.

"What's going on?" Carolyn Plummer asked, confusion making her eyes wide.

Mrs. Chapman smiled at her in compassion. "I'll explain it to you in a moment, dear."

"One moment, please, Captain Ellison." Dr. Chapman stepped forward. His wife stood at his side. "We're scientists here, but I think perhaps it might be wise to beseech a higher power..." He paused for a moment, gathering himself, and we bowed our heads. When he spoke, his voice rang strong. "'Be strong and courageous. Be not terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.'"

And then Mrs. Chapman growled, "Now go out there and wipe that Thing off the face of the Earth!"

****

Taggart and Connor were pacing restlessly, occasionally bumping into each other, mumbling an apology, and continuing to walk to expend the nervous energy.

MacAuliff was huddled by the walkie-talkie. Beside him was the switch, waiting to be thrown. He looked up at Jim. "Still nothing, Cap. I've been in constant contact with them."

"Bob?"

"Danny, what are you doing out here?"

"I just wanted to know..."

The walkie-talkie suddenly squawked to life. Dykes' voice came over, tinny and tight. "Bob! I'm getting a reading! It's point two."

"Ken, what about you?"

"Nothing, Bob."

A few minutes passed.

"It's point five now!"

"Ken?"

"Still nothing."

"It's probably coming by way of the mess hall." MacAuliff licked his lips, then gnawed on his lower one. "Cap?"

"We have to be certain..."

"Bob, it's one point three!"

"I'm getting a reading now, too!"

"Okay, both of you, get your asses back here now!"

"Roger that, Jim!"

"I'm on my way!"

MacAuliff let out a sigh. He jumped when Barnes touched his shoulder, then gave a rusty chuckle. "There's nothing you can do here, Danny. Wait back with the others."

"Please, can I just wait until Ken and Eddie are here?"

"Sure." It was Jim who gave the approval. "But once they show up, I want you out of here."

"Yes, sir." Barnes' smile was grateful.

Connor picked up a cleaver and weighted it in her hand. "This reminds me of when we played tag with Rommel in North Africa. We were 'it' then, too."

There was the of pounding footsteps, and Dykes and Erickson nearly collided at the junction of the two corridors. They were both breathing more heavily than the brief run would have accounted for.

"Thank god you're safe!" Barnes' broken arm made hugging them awkward, but the other men found a way around it.

MacAuliff ruffled the younger man's hair. "Get out of here, Danny." He sent him back to the generator room with a swat to his seat.

"Let's take up our positions."

We walked past the junction.

"Chief, I just had a thought. Get one of the fire extinguishers. A shot of CO2 in that Thing's eyes might blind it, might give us an edge."

"Gotcha."

Sounds of muted fury could be heard at the far end of the corridor, behind the barricaded door to the mess hall. I glanced back over my shoulder and nearly stumbled.

The door seemed to disintegrate in a shower of splinters, and the wood that had been hammered across the doorframe to secure it disintegrated as well. The Thing stood there, once again backlit by the lights in the mess hall.

Somehow I managed to get myself moving again. I ran into the generator room.

"What's going on?" "Is anyone hurt?" "Tell us!"

"It's just shredded the mess hall door. Where's the goddammed fire extinguisher? I know I saw one..."

"It's right here, Blair." Dr. Carrington's voice was soft, and I saw it next to the squat generator. I hurried to get it.

The next thing I knew, the lights went out, and a gun was digging into a spot just behind my ear.

"Bob! Bob!" Barnes dashed out though the door. "Carrington's turned off the generator!"

I could hear shouts, Jim's voice dominating the others. "Ken, Eddie, keep that Thing distracted!"

"What are you doing, Dr. Carrington?" I asked as calmly as I could.

"Captain Ellison may be willing to disobey a direct order from his commanding officer, but once he knows that I will have no qualms in blowing your head off, I believe he'll obey me."

"What are you talking about? Ellison and I barely know each other."

"Do you think I'm so blind I don't see what's going on in my own research station? I've seen the way that officious excuse for a member of this country's military has looked at you, Doctor. I've seen men dying of thirst look at an oasis that way. Oh, yes. He'll want to keep you safe."

He ran the barrel of the gun almost caressingly over my skull. The sight caught on strands of hair restrained by the tie, and I struggled not to flinch as he inadvertently yanked at the roots.

"Dr. Carrington, you don't want to do this." Simon's voice placed him somewhere to our left, not a good position. Carrington was right-handed.

"Of course I do, you stupid man." He cocked the gun.

I swallowed. Someone was in the right position, but now, with the gun ready to fire, it did me no good. "You think that he'll risk the fate of this world for me?"

"You're being melodramatic, Doctor. However, I have no doubt about it. Ah, you see?"

"Dr. Carrington." Jim stood in the doorway; all I could make out was his form, but for a second I would have sworn he was clad in white armor. "Why don't you put the gun down, and we can talk about this." He took a step forward.

"Stay away. Stay away." He was becoming agitated, and I stopped breathing.

"Dr. Carrington! Dr. Carrington!" It was Jim's ex-wife. "Please! It's dark! I'm so frightened! Protect me!" She threw herself at us, and Carrington growled and tried to shove her away. "Daddy! Daddy!" She clung to his arm, sobbing, and abruptly the growl turned to a yowl of pain.

"The bitch bit me!" He flung her away from him, but her ploy had given me the chance to elbow him in the gut and jerk free.

Someone found a flashlight and switched it on. I could see figures crowded around the walls.

"I've got him!" Simon panted.

The flashlight swung around to illuminate the two struggling men, but Carrington was no match for the taller man.

"Someone get that generator started again!" Jim barked. His eyes found me. "Chief..."

"Go. I'll get the fire extinguisher and be right with you."

The sudden darkness, and then the abrupt light, must have confused the Thing for the precious seconds we needed. MacAuliff, Erickson, and Dykes, shoulder to shoulder, formed the first line of defense. Behind them were Taggart and Connor.

Taggart glanced over his shoulder. "Jim. Thank god! I wasn't relishing facing this Thing in the dark!"

"I wouldn't have let it hurt you, Taggart." Connor flashed him a surprisingly flirty smile.

"Thanks, sweet thing. That makes me feel all warm and fuzzy."

"It should. It's not every bloke I'm willing to forgo a picture for."

"Now that really does make me feel ..."

"Look sharp, men, it's on the move!"

The Thing had stooped to pick up a two by four that didn't appear to have sustained any damage. It came toward us, slightly hunched, its steps deliberate. Those eyes...

From the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of movement, and Dr. Carrington darted past us to confront the Thing.

"No! You must listen to me! I mean you no harm, but they... They'll kill you if they can! I want to learn from you! I'm you're friend! Please, you must listen, you must understand..."

We stared in numb horror as the Thing turned those eyes on the scientist. Carrington took an involuntary step back, then stopped and held out his hands in supplication.

"Please! You're wiser than us, you can teach us so much! Can't you understand? You must understand! I'm a scientist who is willing, no desperate to learn from your wisdom! Why can't you understand..."

The Thing bent closer as if to hear better the pleading words of Dr. Carrington. It drew its arm nearer to its body, then lashed out, catching the scientist across the chest and sending him crashing backward against a far wall.

"Holy shit!"

"Yeah, Connor, you got that right!"

It was coming toward us again, and we began backing away from it.

"It's off the walkway. We have to have it on the walkway for the electricity to do any good!" For the first time I heard fear in MacAuliff's voice.

It continued stalking us. Those eyes... Vicious, malicious, hate-filled...

My hands clenched, and metal bit into them. The fire extinguisher. I'd forgotten it completely. I sent it skidding parallel to the wooden walk. The Thing made that high-pitched mewling sound and jumped out of the way.

Onto the walk.

The fire extinguisher bounced and rolled on past it.

"Get back quick!" Jim ordered, and we all retreated to the spot where the switch was hooked up. He picked it up and waited.

"Jim, make sure you've got your senses dialed down!"

He gave a short nod, never taking his eyes from our enemy.

"Not yet, Jim. Not yet... "

The Thing reached the junction, and those eyes seemed to glow with gloating triumph. It took another step, another, and...

"NOW!"

Jim threw the switch, and the connection was made. Arcs of electricity leaped from the wires and cables, attaching to the Thing's extremities. Smoke began to curl from the tips of its many-fingered hands, from its feet, from those eyes.

And that sound, that horrible mewling sound...

Dykes turned away, sickened. "Stop."

"No," I said. "Don't stop. We don't want its kind here, we don't want anything left." I rested my hand on my lover's shoulder.

The fluid that was the Thing's lifeblood, sap, whatever, hissed and popped and evaporated, and it shrank, becoming smaller and smaller.

That porous, unconnected tissue burned to ash. The smell was on the pleasant side, reminding me of a root plant that grew in the Amazon. It would be buried in an ash pit and roasted slowly for hours.

"Not so tough now, are you, you alien fuck!"

"Connor! My ears!" But Taggart's arm was around her shoulder, holding her close to his side. She leaned against him. "Get your picture this time, girl?"

She tipped her head back to answer him, but his lips swallowed whatever she was going to say. She sighed into his mouth and curled an arm around his neck.

Her camera fell to the wooden walkway with a clatter. The back snapped open, and film spilled out in a curl of shiny black.

The two broke their kiss and stared down at it. "Aw, geez, Connor. I'm sorry. Your film..."

"Doesn't matter, Taggart." She stroked her fingers over his face, and I didn't need sentinel senses to hear the rasp of his beard. "I was so busy watching that Thing fry, I forgot to take the picture."

****

Part 17/End

It wasn't surprising, not when you stopped to consider everything that had been going on, that we'd lost track of time.

The Arctic night was falling.

In an unexpected turn of events, the storm that I'd been willing to bet was one of those three-weekers petered out.

"Could that Thing have had something to do with it?"

It was a good thing my question was rhetorical, because no one had an answer for it.

Simon looked over his men. They were already bundled in parkas, scarves, caps, and gloves. He rolled the fat cigar between his teeth and nodded. "All right, let's go see what that Thing did to the fuel line."

Minutes later, "Blair!" My name seemed to echo through the station.

I went to the intercomm and keyed it. "Yeah, Simon?"

"You better get up here. It looks like you've got company!"

My heart tripped into overdrive. Had our Eskimos not been far enough away in time? But when I got there I breathed a sigh of relief.

It was the sled dogs. Apparently they'd been hovering by the outer door, and once it was opened, they bolted into the upper corridor. I approached them, crooning.

Ikuma, the lead bitch, hackles raised, teeth bared, growls spilling from curled lips and head extended, sniffed my hand, and I wondered about her caution.

A couple of days later I did a necropsy on the carcass of a dog that had been found ripped to pieces. Porous, unconnected cellular tissue...

The dogs followed me back outside, and I chained them up for the night, away from the blood-stained snow where they'd first encountered the Thing. Before we left, I would see that they were given to our Eskimos.

With a final look to make sure they were settled, I went back into the station.

Simon and his men did whatever needed to be done to get the oil running again, and while the station was slowly warming up, everyone still wore their outer gear.

"Blair."

"Yes, Dr. Chapman?"

He and some of the other scientists were preparing to go into the greenhouse to retrieve the bodies of our colleagues and the security men.

"Would you mind seeing how Esther is doing?"

I looked past him to the darkened greenhouse. I'd been dreading seeing the condition of the bodies. "Are you sure...?"

"Please." His hand on my shoulder was comforting and warm.

I gave a jerky nod and licked my lips. "Yes, okay."

"Go along now, son."

I squeezed his arm in thanks and left, my pace not quite a run.

Mrs. Chapman looked up when I entered sick bay. "Hi, sweetie." Her words were as weary as her smile.

"Hi, Mrs. C. How are you holding up?"

"Not too badly."

I looked around at the occupants of the beds. "Where's Barnes?"

"He wanted to go back to his own quarters."

"And you let him?"

"That's what Sergeant MacAuliff said." She gave a small laugh. "He was... indignant... when he came to see how Danny was doing and found I was going to let him go. Danny really didn't need to be kept here; his break was a simple fracture. I gave him something for the pain, and the sergeant said he'd go back to his room with him and keep an eye on him."

"I imagine he will." I also imagined that if MacAuliff's quarters hadn't been destroyed, that's where Barnes would have wound up for observation, instead of in his own room. But either way, MacAuliff would be with him.

She saw my eyes go to Dr. Stern. "Josef seems to be rallying, although it's still touch and go. Captain Ellison says we'll be able to fly him out first thing tomorrow morning."

"And Dr. Carrington?"

"He's got a shattered clavicle, and when he regains consciousness, he's going to have a massive headache."

"He'll be getting off better than he deserves, then. I don't understand how he could value acquiring knowledge over the well-being of the human race."

She patted my shoulder. "I believe sleep deprivation had something to do with his obsession, although not everything. The acquisition of knowledge has always been be-all/end-all to Arthur. All that he did, that he was willing to do... It's sad, really, because he probably won't remember a... thing."

"Lucky him. I'll be having nightmares for the rest of my life!" I watched as she dug her knuckles into the small of her back and arched to ease the kinks. I stood behind her and began to massage her shoulders.

"That feels good, sweetie. Thank you."

"Mrs. C, will you and Dr. Chapman stay here?"

"I don't think so, Blair. I have a feeling that when the government learns what went on up here, this station will be closed down. You know they were never enthusiastic about Arthur's choice of locale to begin with. And there are people who will be very happy to see him get what they feel are his just deserts."

"Any idea what you'll do?"

"Hugo's had an offer to meet with Clayton Forrester."

"Of Pacific-Tech? I'm impressed!" Forrester had quite a reputation in his own field, astro- and nuclear-physics, and was doing some pretty important work on atomic engines. There had been an article about him in Time Magazine.

Mrs. Chapman smiled, remembering. "He was a student of Hugo's years back, when a friend asked Hugo to cover a course for him one semester. Quite a brilliant man, even then, and he wants Hugo to work with him."

"That's great, but... What about you? You don't expect me to believe you'll be willing to sit at home listening to The Romance of Helen Trent and Young Dr. Malone, and eating bonbons."

"No," there was amusement in her voice, "Hugo is the one with the weakness for bonbons, although I used to be very fond of soap operas." She grew serious. "I'm sure I'll be able to find a hospital with a modern enough outlook that will hire a female medical doctor."

"Just don't hold your breath." "I just won't hold my breath."

She sighed and gazed around at the somber walls of sick bay. "Do you know what I find... amusing? All the scientists who backed Arthur in his plan to grow those Things are swearing now that we've misunderstood the situation completely."

"What, that they had no intention of letting things get out of hand and were on the verge of informing Dr. Carrington that he was making a serious error? Voorhees, Laurenz..." I grimaced, his name a bad taste in my mouth. "They should all get their asses kicked!"

"Yes, and I'll be the first in line." Mrs. Chapman turned to face me, looking more tired than I could ever remember seeing her. "The two security men, Raleigh and Winston, had no one, you know, but I'll have to inform Dr. Auerbach's daughter. And Helen Olson..." She shook her head. "We're fortunate our losses weren't greater."

"Yes. And when you stop to think about it, if we hadn't been here..." We both shuddered.

"Dr. Sandburg."

"Miss Plummer." I turned to her with some relief. I didn't want to dwell on how this could very well have been the beginning of the end for the human race. "How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts. Mrs. Chapman says I've got a lump on the back of my head the size of a yam! I guess it kind of goes with this." She touched the bandage on her temple. "I'm sorry about what happened in the generator room before. I hope you weren't too frightened."

"Of course I wasn't frightened." I'd only been scared spitless.

"I really did know what I was doing, you know."

"Did you?" That gun could have gone off and blown my head to smithereens.

Jim's ex-wife offered a smile that took me aback with its sweetness. "You see, I had a friend who taught me how to use a pistol."

"Oh?" My voice was chill. A male friend? If she'd screwed around and hurt Jim...

"Samantha Charles was the champion female sharpshooter of a local pistol range." Her smile dimmed for a second. "She was a good friend. Anyway, I knew the safety catch was still on Dr. Carrington's gun."

"Oh. Well." Samantha? Was this the 'Sam' she'd said she wanted? I pushed the thought aside for consideration at another time. "Um... thank you, Miss Plummer."

"You're welcome, Dr. Sandburg."

"Well, uh... " I looked around, floundering. There didn't seem to be anything else to say.

Mrs. Chapman broke the silence before it could become even more uncomfortable. "Will you be going with Captain Ellison when he and his men fly out tomorrow, sweetie?"

"No, I have to wrap up my work here first. Most of it is just scut work, but I can't walk away from it. Most likely I'll leave within the next week or so. "

"I guess in that case we'll be seeing quite a bit of him."

I ducked my head, feeling a blush rise up to my hairline. Jim had opened his mouth to object when I'd told him I couldn't leave yet, but I'd taken the opportunity to kiss it closed. 'It's my work, Jim,' I'd told him, and he'd agreed reluctantly.

'I'll talk General Fogarty into letting me make the flight runs up here.'

'I'd like that.'

'I kind of thought you would.' And he'd kissed me this time.

Carolyn Plummer's forehead wrinkled. "Why would Jimmy fly up here?"

Mrs. Chapman patted her hand and ignored the question. "Blair, I understand that Captain Ellison and his men are in the radio room. Why don't you bring them some coffee? I'm sure they could use a caffeine boost."

"I was going to ask if you needed to be spelled, Mrs. C."

"I'm fine, sweetie. Things are quiet enough now. You go on." She gave me a kiss and a final hug, and I headed for the mess hall to see about the coffee.

The support staff had found a door from somewhere. It had been re-hung to open in.

I hadn't been in the mess hall since... I ran a hand over my face, finding it difficult to remember exactly when. It felt like forever ago.

And then I did recall. I'd gone with Jim and his men to get their damp flight suits. Half-filled coffee cups had been scattered on the tables, a forgotten sandwich, an apple with a bite taken out of it.

Afterwards, when the final attack began, it had sounded as if the Thing had run amuck in the mess hall, and I was reluctant to see the damage it had sustained; I steeled myself and pushed the door open.

The hole the Thing had cut in the outer wall was being repaired. Meanwhile, the Arctic wind blew in around the edges.

Lee was swearing in a Cantonese monotone while he and his boys swept up broken crockery and pots that had been crumpled between impossibly powerful hands and tossed aside in inhuman fury. A couple of tables and some chairs had also been destroyed.

When one of the men saw I was going to check the rec room, he stopped me. "I'd better warn you, Dr. Sandburg. There's a lot of damage."

That was an understatement. I stood in the doorway and tried to catch my breath. The destruction of the room had been wanton and systematic. The chess pieces had been broken in two, the Monopoly board had been sliced into strips of cardboard, and the deck of cards Taggart and Connor had been using was so much confetti; books had been ripped to shreds; furniture had been smashed. The only things that appeared to have escaped were the Monopoly pieces Mrs. Chapman and Barnes had selected.

I turned away, stunned by the magnitude of the hatred displayed. "What a... " It took a second for me to pull myself together. "What a mess."

"That Thing rucky I no see what it do to my kitchen, Brair. I fix him wagon good, I tell you!"

"I believe you, Lee."

"We fix soon, then get dinner started." His matter-of-fact attitude helped steady me.

"Do you have any coffee? I'm heading for the radio room, and they could probably use a cup."

"That first thing I make." He gestured toward the stove. There were four coffee pots perking away. "You take one." He paused in his cleanup and watched as I stacked cups and picked up a pot. "I hear Captain Errison in radio room." He smiled and shooed me out.

If Lee was aware of our feelings for each other, then most likely the entire station was aware. I sighed. I'd always tried to be so careful. I wondered how Jim would react to the knowledge that our affair was common knowledge.

And how long would it be before the military became aware?

If push came to shove, I was sure he would resign rather than wait to be dishonorably discharged, but what if afterwards he was unable to find a job?

I'd take care of him.

I lost myself in a daydream of my lover being kept by me. I'd come home from a long day slaving over a hot microscope to find him sprawled on our bed, on satin sheets, or maybe silk, something that would be smooth and soft against his bare skin. He'd give me a slow, slumberous smile and reach for me, and...

If my hands hadn't been full, I would have unzipped my parka.

When had Simon got the heat in the station up so high?

****

Tex was back in front of his radio set. Dykes stood beside him, fiddling with the dials. With the cessation of the storm there was no doubt they'd finally be able to get a message to General Fogarty.

Extra chairs had been brought in, and the room was crowded. Erickson was sitting on his spine, his long legs stretched out in front of him. "God, I'm glad this is all over!"

"Mmm." Jim, his elbows propped on his knees, his chin in his hands, and his eyes closed, was looking exhausted. His nose twitched. A smile curled his lips. Eyes still closed, he murmured, "Hi, Chief."

"Hi, Jim. I brought some coffee."

"I'll have some." "Me, too." "And me." "So will we."

"Good thing I brought plenty of cups." I set them down on Tex's desk and filled them. "Sorry, you'll have to take it black. I didn't have enough hands to bring milk and sugar."

Dykes took a couple of cups and went to sit next to Erickson.

"Not a problem, Sandy. I like my... coffee... black." Connor grinned, also taking two cups, and strolled across to where Taggart was sitting. "Here you go, big guy."

"Thanks, girl." He accepted the cup, then wrapped his other hand around her leg and rubbed his thumb over her knee.

She reached out and traced the curve of his ear.

There were assorted clearings of throats. Connor glanced around coolly. "Problem, gentlemen?"

"Nope." "No problem that I can see." "Uh, no."

"I didn't think so." She sat down next to Taggart and brought her cup to her lips.

"You're a pistol, Connor."

"You've got that right, mate."

Jim had opened his eyes and was watching me. The caress was almost palpable, and I shifted to ease the sudden constriction of my pants.

"Anything left of our visitor?" I handed my lover his cup and sat down in the chair he'd pulled up beside his.

"Not a thing." Jim took a deep swallow, then grimaced as his mouth registered the heat. "You could have warned me, babe!"

"Hey, you're the sentinel!" I dropped my voice to a teasing whisper. "Does this mean the honeymoon is over?"

"Not in this century, Chief. Not ever, if I can help it."

"Jim!" I could tell from the way his nostrils flared that he could smell my desire.

It was going to be interesting living with this man. He'd know if I was upset, if I was scared, if I was horny... He smiled, and I coughed lightly and resumed speaking in a normal tone.

"So... uh... everything was destroyed?"

"Yeah." There was harsh satisfaction in his voice. "Dr. Carrington's garden in his laboratory, what that Thing was growing in the greenhouse..." His look became grim. "They'd reached the size of one of your husky dogs, Chief."

I felt cold. "That fast?"

"Yeah. And the sounds they were making... We burned everything to ash. The arm too." He took another swallow of coffee to hide how disturbing the memory was. "How's Carolyn?"

I accepted the change of subject. "She's doing well. She's got a lump on the back of her head the size of a yam, but Mrs. Chapman says she wasn't even concussed this time. I'll tell you something, Jim. I'm gonna be glad to get out of here. It's just too damn cold!"

"Captain Ellison, I've managed to reach Anchorage. They're patching a line through to Cascade."

And Jim was all business. "Thanks, Tex." He pushed himself to his feet with a muffled groan.

"You need some sleep, Jim."

"It'll have to wait until the General is done chewing on my ass, Chief."

"Your quarters are a disaster."

"Yeah."

"We've got someplace to stay, Cap." Erickson peeled open an eye. Dykes yawned.

"You two are finished here. Why don't you get some shut-eye?"

"Thanks, Jim. You're a good man." Dykes paused for a beat, then continued. "We couldn't leave before we found our captain a place to sleep, though."

"Why don't you let me worry about that?" Two sets of eyes settled on me, and I could feel myself blushing.

"Fine by us, Doc. Jim, we're gonna see if we can scrounge up a bite in the mess hall, and then hit the sack."

He waved them out of the radio room.

"You will need a place to sleep, Jim."

"You have someplace in mind, babe?"

"Could be."

"Any reason why I can't send my story now, Captain?"

Jim sighed and looked at Connor. "What the hell. They can only court-martial me once." He sat down again.

Connor began speaking into the mic. "Hey, Sparky, are there any reporters there?" Her grin confirmed the affirmative. "All right you lot, this is Megan Connor reporting from Polar Expedition 6 at the North Pole. Flash! Here at the top of the world, the first invasion by an intergalactic foe has been beaten back by a handful of soldiers, civilians, and scientists, although not without casualties to our own meager forces. Noah once saved our world with an ark of wood. Earlier today, a similar service was performed with an arc of electricity. Before I go into the details, I'd like to introduce some of the key people involved in this battle, but Captain Jim Ellison, the ranking military officer, is attending to matters above and beyond the call of duty."

Jim had slouched back in his chair. His eyes were closed and his coffee cup was in danger of tipping. I took it from relaxed fingers, smiling as he uttered a soft snore.

"I would also like to call Dr. Arthur Carrington, leader of the scientific contingent, but he is recovering from injuries suffered in the battle."

"Good for you, girl." Taggart murmured in approval. The truth of the scientist's folly wasn't something the general public needed to know. There would be time enough to reveal his actions at a later date.

"Before I go into the details of this battle, I have an urgent message for all of you, for all the people of the Earth!

"Keep watching the skies!

"Keep looking, keep watching..."

****

As Mrs. Chapman had predicted, Dr. Carrington's research station was shut down. It broke him, or maybe it was looking into that Thing's eyes that had done it. He had the appearance of a man at least twenty years older; his eyes had become vague, and his mind persistently wandered.

What was so sad was that all his former brilliance would forever be overshadowed by one gross misjudgment.

Jim and his men were pronounced heroes and were summoned to Washington, DC to be awarded medals personally by President Truman.

The rest of us had to make do with a civilian ceremony in Cascade.

And because he was such a hero, the military accepted Jim's explanation when he bought a loft on the third floor of 852 Prospect, and I took a teaching position at Rainier and moved in with him.

Just a couple of guys bach-ing it.

Just a couple of guys...

"Hi, Jim. Tough day?"

"Strange day, Chief." He curved his hand around my neck and pulled me in for a long, slow, deep kiss. We were both breathless by the time he was done. I was reaching for his fly when he said, "A letter from Carolyn arrived at the base."

"Oh?" I asked cautiously. The last we had heard, Jim's ex-wife had moved east, to DC. Why was she contacting Jim now?

"She sounds like she's enjoying Washington. Well, that was the kind of life she wanted right from the beginning."

"So she plans on staying there?"

"I think so. I thought she was writing because she wanted to ask for another chance, but she says... wait a second, let me find it." He took a sheet of lavender paper from inside his jacket pocket. The odor of lilacs wafted up from it, and he sneezed.

"Bless you."

"Thank you." Oh, that smile! "Where was I? Oh, yes. She says, 'I've found a wonderful job that pays well for this town, and just the other day I ran across an old friend, Jimmy. Samantha was surprised to see me, but very glad. We went out to dinner and talked for hours. It seems things are so costly here in Washington that she's been having a hard time making ends meet. We're going to rent an apartment together and split the expenses.'"

"I don't suppose she said you could stop sending alimony now."

"Why would she?" Jim looked confused. "It's not as if she's getting married, Chief."

"No, I guess not. But ... Never mind." As long as she stayed a continent away from my lover, I wouldn't begrudge the cost.

"Uh, Chief, do you think that was an awful lot of information to give an ex-husband?"

"It struck you that way too, Sherlock?"

"Yeah. Do you think Carolyn and this Samantha might be..." He waggled his eyebrows.

"I think you might be right, Jim. Hey!"

He'd caught me around the waist, and we landed on the sofa. He got my pants down around my hips and took my half-hard dick into his mouth.

Before I lost all coherent thought, it occurred to me that if Carolyn Plummer and Samantha Charles were half as much in love as I was with Jim, they were damned lucky.

****

"Hi, Chief. Hard day?" Jim had gotten home before me. He handed me a bottle of beer.

"What tipped you off?"

"I could hear you pounding up the stairs. You only do that when something's made you so mad you want to slam the door, but you won't slam the door because you know it would hurt my ears, so you burn off steam running up the three flights of stairs instead."

"I'm that easy to read?"

"Blair, if I can't read my guide, I'm really not much of a sentinel. How about telling me what's lit your fuse?"

"That bastard, Stoddard!"

"Your mentor? I thought he'd left Rainier."

"Yeah. He was so kind as to sponsor me for his position. Kind my ass. You know what he did?" I didn't wait for Jim to answer. "He used all the information I'd amassed, all the research I'd compiled. and wrote The Watchman! 'Watchman' my... That's a crock of shit!"

Jim started to chuckle.

I scowled at my lover. "Jim, he's written about a sentinel!" I was gratified to see how he reacted to that bit of news.

"Goddammed son of a bitch! He..."

"That rotten piece of fiction is on the New York Times bestseller list!"

"Wait a second! 'Bestseller list?' Fiction?"

"Yeah," I snarled, squeezing the neck of the beer bottle as I would have liked... My eyes narrowed, and I could picture my hands closing around Stoddard's scrawny neck and wringing it. "I trusted the man! I listened to him, followed his advice like a fucking sheep!"

"Fiction? Jesus, Chief! I thought you were going to tell me he'd stolen your research and used it to further his own miserable career." Jim took the beer from my hand and put it down on the counter.

"Yeah, but..."

"Listen, babe. Stoddard may have a best-seller, but I'm willing to bet it's going to be a one-shot deal." He looped his arms around my hips and pulled me up against him. I could feel his erection nudging me, and my dick swelled to meet him. He leaned his head closer, took my earlobe between his teeth and bit down gently, and I started to shake.

"Well, yeah, I guess, but..." I became even more distracted when his lips hovered a hairsbreadth above mine. "Jim..."

"Blair, he's got the book, but you've got the real thing..." His hands palmed the curves of my ass, and his fingers dug in and urged me to ride his thigh.

"Jim!" I whispered against his mouth.

"You've got me!"

~End~ Feedback to author

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Acknowledgements: Thank you to Patt for wanting this for My Mongoose and for doing the art. This first appeared in Come to Your Senses 26. Thank you to Mysti for picking up the discrepancies. And as always, many thanks to Gail, who beta'd. From inception to completion, she offered unending support.